DupiVcat© 

Northwestern  University 
_ Library 


OF  THE 

U N I VERS  ITY 
or  ILLINOIS 

9e0.05 

'P'74-IS 

ie>8b,N/.\ 


PLUTARCH’S  LIVES 

OF 

ILLUSTRIOUS  MEN. 


fRANSLATED  FROM  THE  GREEK  BY  JOHN  DRYDEN 

AND  OTHERS. 


THE  WHOLE  CAREFULLY  REVISED  AND  CORRECTED, 


TO  WHICH  IS  PREFIXED 


A LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


In  Foluines. 

VOLUME  I. 


REPRINTED  FROM  THE  LATEST  ENGLISH  EDITIONS. 


NEW  YORK: 

JAMES  B.  MIJ^LAR  & CO.,  PUBLISHERS. 
1885. 


WINKLER  , JUL  1 4 I943 


q 2 

F?*/  ‘ 

. '/-s-s  r 

' V.l 


ALPHABETICAL  INDEX  OF  THE  LIVES. 


VOL. 

page. 

VOL. 

page 

^MILIUS  PaULUS 

. - - I. 

410 

Galba  ----- 

- - -III. 

Agesilaus  - - - - 

- - - II. 

320 

Caius  Gracchus 

- - -III. 

122 

Agis  ------ 

- - -III. 

61 

Tiberius  Gracchus 

- - -III. 

104 

Alcibiadbs  - - - 

- - . I. 

299 

Lucullus  - - - - 

- - - II. 

167 

Alexander  - - - 

- - - II. 

435 

Lycukgus  - - - - 

- - - I. 

66 

Antony  ----- 

- - -III. 

249 

Lysander  - - - - 

- - - II. 

81 

Aratus  ----- 

- - -III. 

399 

Marcellus  - - - 

- - - I. 

470 

Aristides  - - - - 

- - - I. 

500 

Marius  ----- 

- - - 11. 

4* 

Artaxerxes  - - - 

- - -III. 

437 

Nicias  ----- 

211 

Brutus  ----- 

- - -III. 

354 

Numa  Pompilius  - 

- - -III. 

98 

CiBSAR  ----- 

- - - II. 

503 

Otho  ------ 

482 

('amillus  - - - - 

199 

Pelopidas  - - - - 

443 

Cato  the  Censor  - 

- - - I. 

526 

234 

Cato  the  Younger 

- - . - III. 

7 

Philopcemen  - - - 

556 

■^Cicero  ----- 

- - -III. 

165 

Phocion  ----- 

- - - II. 

555 

^ CiMON  ----- 

- - - II. 

147 

POMPEY  ----- 

- - - 11. 

355 

^ Cleomenbs  - - - 

- - -III. 

76 

Poplicola  - - - - 

- - - I. 

152 

, Coriolanus  - - - 

- - - I. 

336 

Pyrrhus  ----- 

- - - II. 

7 

Crassus  ----- 

241 

34 

.Demetrius  - - - 

207 

Sertorius  - - - - 

- - - II. 

276 

Demosthenes  - - 

- - -III. 

141 

127 

^ Dion  ------ 

- - -III. 

3M 

Sylla ----- 

- - - II. 

X07 

Eumenbs  - - - - 

- - - II. 

30  r 

Themistocles  - - 

- - - I. 

171 

' — ^ Fabius  ----- 

- - - I. 

272 

Theseus  ----- 

- - - I. 

7 

Flamininus  - - - 

- - - I. 

574 

Timoleon  - - - - 

- - - I. 

37S 

ALPHABETICAL  INDEX  OF  THE  COMPARISONS. 


VOL. 

page. 

Agesilaus  and  Pompey  - - 

II. 

430 

Agis  and  Cleomenes  and 

the  Gracchi  - - - - - 

III. 

138 

Alcibiadbs  and  Coriolanus 

I. 

371 

Aristides  and  Marcus  Cato 

I. 

552 

CiMON  AND  Lucullus  - - 

II. 

208 

•Demetrius  and  Antony  - 

III. 

3II 

^ Demosthenes  and  Cicero  - 

III. 

203 

Dion  and  Brutus  - - - - 

III. 

396 

Lycurgus  and  Numa-  - - 

I. 

121 

‘"0  Lysander  and  Sylla  - - 

II. 

143 

VOl-  PACK. 


Nicias  and  Crassus  - - - 

II. 

272 

Pelopidas  and  Marcellus 

I. 

497 

Pericles  and  Fabius-  - - 

1. 

297 

Philopcemen  and  Flamini- 

NUS  --------- 

1. 

595 

Sertorius  and  Eumenbs  - 

II. 

318 

Solon  and  Poplicola  - - 

I. 

168 

Theseus  and  Romulus  - - 

I. 

62 

Timoleon  and  ^Emilius 
Paulus  ------- 

I. 

44i 

CONTENTS. 


VOLUME  I. 

MQfl 

i-ife  of  H utarch 5 

Theseus. . 7 

Romulus 34 

Comparison  of  Romulus  with  Theseus 62 

Lycurgus 66 

Numa  Pompilius ; 98 

Comparison  of  Numa  with  Lycurgus 121 

Solon 127 

Poplicola 152 

Comparison  of  Poplicola  with  Solon 168 

Themistocles 171 

Camillus 199 

Pericles 234 

Fabius 272 

Comparison  of  Fabius  with  Pericles 297 

Alcibiades  299 

Coriolanus 336 

Comparison  of  Alcibiades  with  Coriolanus 371 

Timoleon . . 375 

^niiliua  Paulus 410 

Comparison  of  Timoleon  with  iCmilius  Paul  is 441 

Pelopidas ....  443 

Marcellus ..  . 470 

Comparison  of  Pelopidas  with  Marcellus 497 

Aristides 5C0 

Marcus  Cato . . 526 

Comparison  of  Aristides  with  Marcus  Cato 552 

Philopoemen 556 

Flamininus 574 

Comparison  of  Philopoemen  with  Flamininus 595 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH 


As,  in  the  progress  of  life,  we  first  pass  through  scenes  of  innoc«ii:e, 
peace,  and  fancy,  and  afterwards  encounter  the  disorders  of  society,  so 
we  shall  here  amuse  ourselves  awhile  in  the  peaceful  solitude  of  the 
philosopher,  before  we  proceed  to  those  more  animated,  but  less  pleasing 
objects  he  describes. 

Nor  will  the  view  of  a philosopher’s  life  be  less  instructive  than  his 
labors.  If  the  latter  teach  us  how  great  vices,  accompanied  with  great 
abilities,  may  tend  to  the  ruin  of  a state  ; if  they  inform  us  how  Ambition 
attended  with  magnanimity,  how  Avarice  directed  by  political  sagacity, 
how  Envy  and  Revenge  armed  with  personal  valor  and  popular  support, 
will  destroy  the  most  sacred  establishments,  and  break  through  every  bar- 
rier of  human  repose  and  safety ; the  former  will  convince  us  that  equa- 
nimity is  more  desirable  than  the  highest  privileges  of  mind,  and  that  the 
most  distinguished  situations  in  life  are  less  to  be  envied  than  those  quiet 
allotments,  where  Science  is  the  support  of  Virtue. 

Pindar  and  Epaminondas  had,  long  before  Plutarch’s  time,  redeemed,  in 
some  measure,  the  credit  of  Boeotia,  and  rescued  the  inhabitants  of  that 
country  from  the  proverbial  imputation  of  stupidity.  When  Plutarch  ap- 
peared, he  confirmed  the  reputation  it  had  recovered.  He  showed  that 
genius  is  not  the  growth  of  any  particular  soil ; and  that  its  cultivation  re- 
quires no  peculiar  qualities  of  climate. 

Chaeronea,  a town  in  Boeotia,  between  Phocis  and  Attica,  had  the 
honor  to  give  him  birth.  This  place  was  remarkable  for  nothing  but  the 
lameness  and  servility  of  its  inhabitants,  whom  Athony’s  soldiers  made 
l)easts  of  burthen,  and  obliged  to  carry  their  corn  upon  their  shoulders  to 
the  coast.  As  it  lay  between  two  seas,  and  was  partly  shut  up  by  mountains, 
the  air,  of  course,  was  heavy,  and  truly  Boeotian.  But  situations  as  little 
favored  by  nature  as  Chaeronea  have  given  birth  to  the  greatest  men  ; of 
which  the  celebrated  Locke  and  many  others  are  instances. 

Plutarch  himself  acknowledges  the  stupidity  of  the  Boeotians  in  gen 
eral ; but  he  imputes  it  rather  to  their  diet  than  to  their  air;  for,  in^his 
Treatise  on  Animal  Food,  he  intimates,  that  a gross  indulgence  in  lhal 
article,  which  was  usual  with  his  countrymen,  contributes  greatly  to  ob- 
scure the  intellectual  faculties. 

It  is  not  easy  to  ascertain  in  what  year  he  was  born.  Ruauld  places 
it  about  the  micfdle  of  the  reign  of  Claudius;  others,  towards  the  end  of  it 
The  following  circumstance  is  the  only  foundation  they  have  for  iheii 
conjectures. 


VI 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


Plutarch  sa/s,  that  he  studied  philosophy  under  Ammonius,  at  Delphi^ 
when  Nero  made  his  progress  into  Greece.  This,  we  know,  was  in  the 
twelfth  year  of  that  Emperor's  reign,  in  the  consulship  of  Paulinus  Sue- 
tonius and  Pontius  Telesinus,  the  second  year  of  the  Olympiad  21 1,  and 
the  sixty-sixth  of  the  Christian  era.  Dacier  observes  that  Plutarch  must 
have  been  seventeen  or  eighteen  at  least,  when  he  was  engaged  in  the  ab- 
struse studies  of  philosophy ; and  he,  therefore,  fixes  his  birth  about  five 
or  six  years  before  the  death  of  Claudius.  This,  however,  is  bare  suppo- 
sition ; and  that,  in  our  opinion,  not  of  the  most  probable  kind.  The 
youth  of  Greece  studied  under  the  philosophers  very  early ; for  their 
works,  with  those  of  the  poets  and  rhetoricians,  formed  their  chief  course 
of  discipline. 

Put  to  determine  whether  he  was  borne  under  the  reign  of  Claudius,  or 
in  the  early  part  of  Nero’s  reign  (which  we  the  rather  believe,  as  he  says  him- 
self that  he  was  very  young  when  Nero  entered  Greece);  to  make  it 
clearly  understood,  whether  he  studied  at  Delphi  at  ten,  or  at  eighteen 
years  of  age,  is  of  much  less  consequence  than  it  is  to  know  by  what 
means,  and  under  what  auspices,  he  acquired  that  humane  and  rational 
philosophy  which  is  distinguished  in  his  works. 

Ammonius  was  his^  preceptor ; but  of  him  we  know  little  more  than 
what  his  scholar  has  accidentally  let  fall  concerning  him.  He  mentions 
a singular  instance  of  his  manner  of  correcting  his  pupils. 

“Our  master  (says  he)  having  one  day  observed  that  we  had  indulged 
ourselves  too  luxuriously  at  dinner,  at  his  afternoon  lecture  ordered  his 
Ereedman  to  give  his  own  son  the  discipline  of  the  whip,  in  our  presence  ; sig- 
nifying, at  the  same  time,  that  he  suffered  this  punishment  because  he 
could  not  eat  his  victuals  without  sauce.  The  philos’opher  all  the  while 
had  his  eye  upon  us,  and  we  knew  well  for  whom  this  example  of  punish- 
ment was  intended.”  This  circumstance  show's,  at  least,  that  Ammo- 
nius was  not  of  the  school  of  Epicurus.  The  severity  of  his  discipline, 
indeed,  seems  rather  of  the  Stoic  cast  ; but  it  is  most  probable  that  he 
belonged  to  the  Academicians ; for  their  schools,  at  that  time,  had  the 
greatest  reputation  in  Greece. 

It  was  a happy  circumstance  in  the  discipline  of  those  schools,  that 
the  parent  only  had  the  power  of  corporal  punishment ; the  rod  and  the 
ferule  were  snatched  from  the  hand  of  the  petty  tyrant;  his  office  alone 
was  to  inform  the  mind ; he  had  no  authority  to  dastardize  the  spirit ; he 
had  no  powder  to  extinguish  the  generous  flame  of  freedom,  or  to  break 
down  the  noble  independency  of  soul,  by  the  slavish,  debasing,  and  de- 
grading application  of  the  rod.  This  mode  of  punishment  in  our  public 
.schools  is  one  of  the  worst  remains  of  barbarism  that  prevails  among  us. 
Sensible  minds,  how^ever  volatile  and  inattentive  in  early  years,  may  be 
drawn  to  their  duty  by  many  means,  which  shame,  and  fears  of  a more 
liberal  nature  than  those  of  corporal  punishment,  will  supply.  Where 
there  is  but  little  sensibility,  the  effect  w'hich  that  mode  of  punishment 
produces  is  not  more  happy.  It  destroys  that  little  ; though  it  should  be 
the  first  care  and  labor  of  the  preceptor  to  increase  it.  To  beat  the  body 
is  to  debase  the  mind.  Nothing  so  soon,  or  so  totally,  abolishes  the  sense 
of  shame;  and  yet  that  sense  is  at  once  the  best  preservative  of  virtue, 
n.d  the  greatest  incentive  to  every  species  of  excellence. 

Another  principal  advantage,  which  the  ancient  mode  of  the  Greek 
education  gave  its  pupils,  was  their  early  access  to  every  branch  of  philb 
Bophical  learning.  They  did  not,  like  us,  employ  their  youth  in  the  ac- 
quisition of  w^ords ; they  w'ere  engaged  in  pursuits  of  a higher  nature,  in 
acquiring  the  knowledge  of  things.  They  did  not,  like  us,  spend  seven  tr 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


ViJ 

ren  years  of  scholasti : labor,  in  making  a general  acquaintance  v^-ith  two 
dead  languages.  Those  years  were  employed  in  the  study  of  nature,  and 
in  gaining  the  elements  of  philosophical  knowledge  from  her  original  econ- 
omy and  laws.  Hence  all  that  Dacier  has  observed  concerning  the  prob- 
ability of  Plutarch’s  being  seventeen  or  eighteen  years  of  age  when  hfi 
studied  under  Ammonias  is  without  the  least  weight. 

The  way  to  mathematical  and  philosophical  knowledge  was,  indeed, 
much  more  easy  among  the  ancient  Greeks  than  it  can  ever  be  with  us. 
Those,  and  every  other  science,  are  bound  up  in  terms  which  we  can 
never  understand  precisely,  till  we  become  acquainted  with  the  language* 
from  which  they  are  derived.  Plutarch,  when  he  learned  the  Roman  lan- 
guage, which  was  not  till  he  was  somewhat  advanced  in  life,  observed  that 
he  got  the  knowledge  of  words  from  his  knowledge  of  things.  Put  we  lie 
under  thejiecessity  of  reversing  his  method  ; and  before  we  can  arrive  at 
the  knowledge  of  things,  we  must  first  labor  to  obtain  the  knowledge  cf 
words. 

However,  though  the  Greeks  had  access  to  science  without  the  ac- 
quisition of  other  languages,  they  were,  nevertheless,  sufficiently  attentive 
to  the  cultivation  of  their  own.  Philology,  after  the  mathematics  and 
philosophy,  was  one  of  their  principal  studies;  and  they  applied  them- 
selves considerably  to  critical  investigation. 

A proof  of  this  we  find  in  that  Dissertation  which  Plutarch  hath  given 
us  on  the  word  et,  engraved  on  the  Temple  of  Apollo  at  Delphi.  In  this 
tract  he  introduces  the  scholastic  disputes,  wherein  he  makes  a principal 
figure.  After  giving  us  the  various  significations  which  others  assigned  to 
this  word,  he  adds  his  own  idea  of  it;  and  that  is  of  some  consequence  to 
us,  because  it  shows  us  that  he  w as  not  a polytheist.  says  he.  Thou 

art ; as  if  it  were  Thou  art  one,  I mean  not  in  the  aggregate  sense, 
as  we  say,  one  army,  or  one  body  of  men,  composed  of  many  individuals  ; 
but  that  which  exists  distinctly  must  necessarily  be  one ; and  the  very  idea  of 
Being  implies  individuality.  One  is  that  wffiich  is  a simple  Being,  free 
from  mixture  and  composition.  To  be  one,  therefore,  in  this  sense,  is 
consistent  only  wuth  a nature  entire  in  its  first  principle,  and  incapable  of 
alteration  or  decay.^’ 

So  far  we  are  perfectly  satisfied  whth  Plutarch’s  creed,  but  not  with  his 
criticism.  To  suppose  that  the  w'ord  ei  should  signify  the  existence  of 
one  God  only,  is  to  hazard  too  much  upon  conjecture ; and  the  whole 
tenor  of  the  Heathen  theology  makes  against  it. 

Nor  can  w^e  be  better  pleased  with  the  other  interpretations  of  this 
celebrr.ted  word.  We  can  never  suppose  that  it  barely  signifies^,*  inti- 
mating thereby,  that  the  business  of  those  wffio  visited  the  temple  w'as  in- 
quiry, and  that  they  came  to  ask  the  Deity  if  such  events  should  come  to 
pass.  I'his  construction  is  too  much  forced  ; and  it  would  do  as  well,  oi 
even  better,  W'ere  the  et  interpreted,  if  you  make  large  presents  to  tLc 
God.  if  SOM  pay  the  priest. 

Were  not  this  inscription  an  object  of  attention  among  the  learned,  we 
should  i ot,  at  this  distant  period  of  time,  have  thought  it  worth  mention- 
ing, otl.erwise  than  as  it  gives  us  an  idea  of  one  branch  of  Plutarch’s  edu- 
cation.^ But  as  a single  word,  inscribed  on  the  Temple  of  Apollo  at 
Delphi,  cannot  but  be  a matter  of  curiosity  w'ith  those  wffio  carry  their  in- 
q lilies  into  remote  antiquity,  we  shall  not  scruple  to  add  one  more  to  the 
other  conjectures  concerning  it. 

We  will  siq)pose,  then,  that  the  word  was  here  used,  in  the  Ionic 
dialect,  for  eide,  1 7uish.  This  perfectlv  expressed  the  state  of  mind  of  all 
that  entered  the  temple  on  the  business  of  coi. saltation  ; and  it  might  bf 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


mi 


no  .ess  empl'atical  in  the  Greek  than  Virgil’s  Quanquam  O ! was  in  the 
Latin.  If  we  carry  this  conjecture  farther,  and  think  it  probable,  that 
this  word  might,  as  the  initial  word  of  a celebrated  line  in  the  third  book 
of  the  Odyssey,  stand  there  to  signify  the  whole  line,  we  shall  reach  a 
degree  of  probability  almost  bordering  on  certainty.  The  verse  we  allud 
to  is  this : — 

Et  yap  e/xoc  yoo’crrji'Se  ^eot  Svvaixiv  rrapaOeiev  I 

“ O that  the  Gods  would  empower  me  to  obtain  my  wishes ! ” What 
prayer  more  proper  on  entering  the  temples  of  the  Gods,  particularly 
with  the  view  of  consulting  them  on  the  events  of  life. 

If  it  should  be  thought  that  the  initial  word  is  insufficient  to  represent 
a whole  verse,  we  have  to  answer,  that  it  was  agreeable  to  the  custom  of 
the  ancients.  They  not  only  conveyed  the  sense  of  particular  verses  by 
their  initial  words,  but  frequently  of  large  passages  by  the  quotation  of  a 
single  line,  or  even  of  half  a line  ; some  instances  of  which  occur  in  the 
following  Lives.  The  reason  of  this  is  obvious.  The  works  of  their  best 
poets  were  almost  universally  committed  to  memory  ; and  the  smallest 
quotation  was  sufficient  to  convey  the  sense  of  a whole  passage. 

These  observations  are  matters  of  mere  curiosity,  indeed  ; but  they  have 
had  their  use  ; for  they  have  naturally  pointed  out  to  us  another  instance 
of  the  excellence  of  that  education  which  formed  our  young  philosopher. 

This  was  the  improvement  of  the  memory,  by  means  of  exercise. 

Mr.  Locke  has  justly,  though  obviously  enough,  observed,  that  noth- 
ing so  much  strengthens  this  faculty  as  the  employment  of  it. 

The  Greek  mode  of  education  must  have  had  a wonderful  effect 
in  this  case.  The  continual  exercise  of  the  memory,  in  laying  up  the 
treasures  of  their  poets,  the  precepts  of  the  philosophers,  and  the  prob- 
lems of  their  mathematicians,  must  have  given  it  that  mechanical  power 
of  retention,  which  nothing  could  easily  escape.  Thus  Pliny  * tells  us  of 
a Greek  called  Charmidas,  who  could  repeat  from  memory  the  contents 
of  the  largest  library. 

The  advantages  Plutarch  derived  from  this  exercise  appear  in  every  part 
of  his  work.  As  the  writings  of  poets  lived  in  his  memory,  they  were 
ready  for  use  and  application  on  every  apposite  occasion.  They  were 
always  at  hand,  either  to  confirm  the  sentiments  and  justify  the  principles 
of  his  heroes,  to  support  his  own,  or  to  illustrate  both. 

By  the  aid  of  a cultivated  memory,  too,  he  was  enabled  to  write  a 
number  of  contemporary  Lives,  and  to  assign  to  each  such  a portion  of 
nusiness  in  the  general  transactions  of  the  times,  as  might  be  sufficient  to 
delineate  the  character,  without  repeated  details  of  the  same  actions  and 
negotiations.  This  made  a very  difficult  part  of  his  work  ; and  he  ac- 
quitted himself  here  with  great  management  and  address.  Sometimes, in- 
deed, he  has  repeated  the  same  circumstances  in  contemporary  lives ; but 
it  was  hardly  avoidable.  The  great  wonder  is,  that  he  has  done  it  so  sel- 
dom. 

But  though  an  improved  memory  might,  in  this  respect,  be  of  senrice 
to  him,  as  undoubtedly  it  was,  there  were  others  in  which  it  was  uather  a 
disadvantage.  By  trusting  too  much  to  it,  he  has  fallen  into  inaccuracies 
and  inconsistencies,  where  he  was  professedly  drawing  from  preceding 
writers. 

If  Plutarch  might  properly  be  said  to  belong  to  any  sect  of  philoso 
phers,  his  education,  the  rationality  of  his  principles,  and  the  modesty  oi 
* Hist.  Nat.  lib.  vii*.  cao.  24. 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


1% 


his  doctrines,  would  incline  us  to  place  him  with  the  latter  academy.  At 
least,  when  he  left  his  master,  Ammonius,  and  came  into  society,  it  is  more 
than  probable  that  he  ranked  particularly  with  that  sect. 

His  writings,  however,  furnish  us  with  many  reasons  f®r  thinking,  that 
he  afterwards  became  a citizen  of  the  philosophical  world.  He  appears 
to  have  examined  every  sect  with  a calm  and  unprejudiced  attention;  to 
have  selected  what  he  found  of  use  for  the  purposes  of  virtue  and  happi- 
ness ; and  to  have  left  the  rest  for  the  portion  of  those  whose  narrowness 
of  mind  could  think  either  science  or  felicity  confined  to  any  denomination 
of  men. 

From  the  Academicians  he  took  their  modesty  of  opinion,  and  left 
them  their  original  skepticism : he  borrowed  their  rational  theology,  and 
gave  up  to  them,  in  a great  measure,  their  metaphysical  refinements,  to- 
gether with  their  vain,  though  seductive,  enthusiasm. 

With  the  Peripatetics,  he  walked  in  search  of  natural  science  and  of 
logic,  but,  satisfied  with  whatever  practical  knowledge  might  be  acquired, 
he  left  them  to  dream  over  the  hypothetical  part  of  the  former,  and  to 
chase  the  shadows  of  reason  through  the  mazes  of  the  latter. 

To  the  Stoics,  he  was  indebted  to  the  belief  of  a particular  Providence ; 
but  he  could  not  enter  into  their  idea  of  future  rewards  and  punishments. 
He  knew  not  how  to  reconcile  the  present  agency  of  the  Supreme  Being 
with  his  judicial  character  hereafter  ; though  Theodoret  tells  us,  he  had 
heard  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  inserted  several  of  its  mysteries  in  his 
works.*  From  the  Stoics,  too,  he  borrowed  the  doctrine  of  fortitude  ; 
but  he  rejected  the  unnatural  foundation  on  which  they  erected  that  virtue. 
^^e  went  back  to  Socrates  for  principles  whereon  to  rest  it. 

With  the  Epicureans  he  does  not  seem  to  have  had  much  intercourse, 
though  the  accommodating  philosophy  of  Aristippus  entered  frequently 
into  his  politics,  and  sometimes  into  the  general  economy  of  his  life.  In 
the  little  states  of  Greece  that  philosophy  had  not  much  to  do ; but  had  it 
been  adopted  in  the  more  violent  measures  of  the  Roman  Administration, 
our  celebrated  biographer  would  not  have  had  such  scenes  of  blood  and 
ruin  to  describe  ; for  emulation,  prejudice,  and  opposition,  upon  whatever 
principles  they  might  plead  their  apology,  first  struck  out  the  fire  that  laid 
the  commonwealth  in  ashes.  If  Plutarch  borrowed  any  thing  more  from 
Epicurus,  it  was  his  rational  idea  of  enjoyment.  That  such  was  his  idea, 
it  is  more  than  probable ; for  it  is  impossible  to  believe  the  tales  that  the 
Heathen  bigots  have  told  of  him,  or  to  suppose  that  the  cultivated  mind 
of  a philosopher  should  pursue  its  happiness  out  of  the  temperate  order 
of  nature.  His  irreligious  opinions  he  left  to  him,  as  he  had  left  to  the 
other  sects  their  vanities  and  absurdities. 

But  when  we  bring  him  to  the  school  of  Pythagoras,  w^hat  idea  shall 
we  entertain  of  him  ? Shall  we  consider  him  any  longer  as  a a Academi- 
cian, or  as  a citizen  of  the  philosophical  world  ? Naturally  benevolent 
ind  humane,  he  finds  a system  of  divinity  and  philosophy  perfectly  adapted 
to  his  natural  sentiments.  The  whole  animal  creation  he  had  originally 
looked  upon  with  an  instructive  tenderness;  but  when  the  amiable  Pytha- 
g07as,  the  priest  of  Nature,  in  defence  of  the  common  privileges  of  her 
creatures,  had  called  religion  into  their  cause;  — when  he  sought  to 
soften  the  cruelty  that  man  had  exercised  against  them,  by  the  honest  art 
of  insinuating  the  doc:rine  of  transmigration,  how  could  the  humane  and 
benevolent  Plutarch  refuse  to  serve  under  this  priest  of  Nature.  It  was 

• Nothing  of  Plutarch's  is  now  extant,  from  which  \re  can  infer  that  be  was  acquainted 
with  the  Christian  religion. 


X 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


impossible.  He  adopted  the  doctrine  of  the  Metempsychosis.  He  entered 
into  the  merciful  scheme  of  Pythagoras,  and,  like  him,  diverted  the  ciuelty 
of  the  human  species,  by  appealing  to  the  selfish  qualities  of  their  nature, 
by  subduing  their  pride,  and  exciting  their  sympathy,  while  he  showed  them 
that  their  future  existence  might  be  the  condition  of  a reptile. 

This  spirit  and  disposition  break  strongly  from  him  in  his  observations 
on  the  elder  Cato.  And  as  nothing  can  exhibit  a more  lively  picture  of 
him  than  these  paintings  of  his  own,  we  shall  not  scruple  to  introduce 
them  here  ; “For  my  part,  I cannot  but  charge  his  using  his  servants  like 
so  many  beasts  of  bui  den,  and  turning  them  off,  or  selling  them  when  they 
gr  >w  old,  to  the  account  of  a mean  and  ungenerous  spirit,  which  thinkf 
that  the  sole  tie  between  man  and  man  is  interest  or  necessity.  But 
goodness  moves  in  a larger  sphere  than  justice.  The  obligations  of  law 
and  equity  reach  only  to  mankind,  but  kindness  and  beneficence  should 
be  extended  to  the  creatures  of  every  species ; and  these  still  flow  from 
the  breast  of  a well-natured  man,  as  streams  that  issue  from  the  living 
fountain.  A good  man  will  take  care  of  his  horses  and  dogs,  not  only 
while  they  are  young,  but  when  old  and  past  service.  Thus  the  people  at 
Athens,  when  they  had  finished  the  Temple  called  Hecatompedon,  set  at 
liberty  the  beasts  of  burden  that  had  been  chiefly  employed  in  the  work, 
suffering  them  to  pasture  at  large,  free  from  any  other  service.  It  is  said, 
that  one  of  these  afterwards  came  of  its  own  accord  to  work,  and  putting 
itself  at  the  head  of  the  laboring  cattle,  marched  before  them  to  the  citadel. 
This  pleased  the  people,  and  they  made  a decree,  that  it  should  be  kept 
at  the  public  charge  so  long  as  it  lived.  The  graves  of  Cimon's  mares, 
with  which  he  thrice  conquered  at  the  Olympic  games,  are  still  to  be  seen 
near  his  own  tomb.  Many  have  shown  particular  marks  of  regard,  in 
burying  the  dogs  which  they  cherished  and  been  fond  of ; and  amongst 
the  rest,  Xantippus  of  old,  whose  dog  swam  by  the  side  of  his  galley  tu 
Salamis,  when  the  Athenians  were  forced  to  abandon  their  city,  and  was 
afterwards  buried  by  him  upon  a promontory,  which  to  this  day  is  called 
the  Dog^s  Grave.  We  certainly  ought  not  to  treat  living  creatures  like 
shoes  or  household  goods,  which,  when  worn  out  with  use,  we  throw 
away ; and  were  it  only  to  learn  benevolence  to  humankind,  we  should  be 
merciful  to  other  creatures.  For  my  own  part,  I would  not  sell  even  an 
old  ox  that  had  labored  for  me  ; much  less  would  I remove  for  the  sake 
of  a little  money,  a man  grown  old  in  my  service,  from  his  usual  lodgings 
and  diet ; for  to  him,  poor  man ! it  would  be  as  bad  as  banishment,  since 
he  could  be  of  no  more  use  to  the  buyer  than  he  was  to  the  seller.  But 
Cato,  as  if  he  took  a pride  in  these  things,  tells  us,  that  when  const  I,  he  left 
his  war-horse  in  Spain, to  save  the  public  the  charge  of  his  conveyance. 
Whether  such  things  as  these  are  instances  of  greatness  or  littleness  of  soul, 
let  the  reader  judge  for  himself.’' 

What  an  amiable  idea  of  our  benevolent  philosopher  1 How  worthy 
the  instructions  of  the  priest  of  Nature!  How  honorable  to  that  great 
master  of  truth  and  universal  science,  whose  sentiments  are  decisive  m 
every  doubtful  matter,  and  whose  maxims  were  received  with  silent  con- 
viction ! * 

Wherefore  should  we  wonder  to  find  Plutarch  more  particularly  at- 
tached to  the  opinions  of  this  great  man  ? Whether  we  consider  the  im- 
mensity of  his  erudition,  or  the  benevolence  of  his  system,  the  motives  for 
that  attachment  were  equally  powerful.  Pythagoras  had  collected  all  the 
stores  of  human  learning,  and  had  reduced  them  into  one  rational  and 
useful  body  of  science.  Like  our  glorious  Bacon,  he  led  Philosophy 
• Val  Max.  lib.  viii.  cap.  1 1, 


LIFE  OF  PT.UTARCH. 


xi 

torth  from  the  jargon  of  schools,  and  the  fopperies  of  sects.  He  made 
her  what  she  was  originally  designed  to  be,  the  handmaid  of  Nature  I 
friendly  to  her  creatures,  and  faithful  to  her  laws.  Whatever  knowledge 
could  be  gained  by  human  industry,  by  the  most  extensive  inquiry  and 
observation,  he  had  every  means  and  opportunity  to  obtain.  The  priests 
of  Egypt  unfolded  to  him  their  mysteries  and  their  learning;  they  led  him 
through  the  records  of  the  remotest  antiquity,  and  opened  all  those  stores 
of  science  that  had  been  amassing  through  a multitude  of  ages.  The 
Magi  of  Persia  co-operated  with  the  priests  of  Egypt  in  the  instruction  oi 
this  wonderful  philosopher.  They  taught  him  those  higher  parts  of 
Science,  by  which  they  were  themselves  so  much  distinguished,  astronomy 
and  the  system  of  the  universe.  The  laws  of  moral  life,  and  the  institu- 
tions of  civil  societies,  with  their  several  excellencies  and  defects,  he 
learned  from  the  various  states  and  establishments  of  Greece.  Thus  ac- 
complished, when  he  came  to  dispute  in  the  Olympic  contests,  he  was 
considered  as  a prodigy  of  wisdom  and  learning ; but  when  the  choice  of 
his  title  was  left  to  him,  he  modestly  declined  the  appellation  of  a wise 
maft,  and  was  contented  only  to  be  called  a lover  of  wisdom.^ 

Shall  not  Plutarch,  then,  meet  wdth  all  imaginable  indulgence,  if,  in 
his  veneration  for  this  great  man,  he  not  only  adopted  the  nobler  parts  of 
his  philosophy,  but  (what  he  had  avoided  with  regard  to  the  other  sects) 
followed  him,  too,  in  his  errors  ? Such,  in  particular,  was  his  doctrine  of 
dreams  ! to  which  our  biographer,  we  must  confess,  has  paid  too  much 
attention.  Yet  absolutely  to  condemn  him  for  this  would,  perhaps,  be 
hazarding  as  much  as  totally  to  defend  him.  We  must  acknowledge,  with 
the  elder  Pliny,  Si  exemplis  agatur^  profecto  paria  fiant ; t or,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  honest  wSir  Robert  de  Coverley,  “ Much  may  be  said  on  both 
sides.”  However,  if  Pliny,  whose  complaisance  for  the  credit  of  the  mar- 
vellous in  particular  was  very  great,  could  be  doubtful  about  this  matter, 
we  of  little  faith  may  be  allowed  to  be  more  so.  Yet  Plutarch,  in  his 
Treatise  on  the  Oracles,  has  maintained  his  doctrine  by  such  powerful  testi- 
monies, that  if  any  regard  is  to  be  paid  to  his  veracity,  some  attention 
should  be  given  to  his  opinion.  We  shall  therefore  leave  the  point,  where 
Mr.  Addison  thought  proper  to  leave  a more  improbable  doctrine,  in  sus- 
pense. 

When  Zeno  consulted  the  oracle  in  what  manner  he  should  live,  the 
answer  was,  that  he  should  inquire  of  the  dead.  Assiduous  and  indefat- 
igable application  to  reading  make  a considerable  part  of  the  Greek 
education ; and  in  this  our  biographer  seems  to  have  exerted  the  greatest 
industry.  The  number  of  books  he  has  quoted,  to  which  he  has  referred, 
and  from  which  he  has  written,  seems  almost  incredible,  when  it  is  con- 
sidered, that  the  art  of  printing  was  not  known  in  his  time  and  that  the 
purchase  of  manuscripts  was  difficult  and  dear. 

His  family,  indeed,  was  not  without  wealth ; in  his  Symposiacs,  he 
tells  us,  that  it  was  ancient  in  Chaeronea  ; and  that  his  ancestors  had  been 
invested  with  the  most  considerable  offices  in  the  magistracy.  He  men- 
tions in  particular  his  great-grandfather,  Nicharchus,  whom  he  had  the 
happiness  of  knowing ; and  relates,  from  his  authority,  the  misfortunes  of 
his  fellow-citizens,  under  the  severe  discipline  of  Athony^s  soldiers. 

Plis  grandfather,  Lamprias,  he  tells  us,  was  a man  of  great  eloquence, 
and  of  a brilliant  imagination.  He  was  distinguished  by  his  merit  as  a 
convivial  companion ; and  was  one  of  those  happy  mortals,  w'ho,  when  they 
sacrifice  to  Bacchus,  are  favored  bv  Mercury.  His  good-humor  and  pleas* 
antry  increased  with  his  cups ; ana  he  used  to  say,  that  wine  had  the  same 

♦ Val.  Max.  lib.  viii.  cap.  7.  t Hist-  Nat.  lib.  x.  cap.  75. 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


Kll 

effect  upon  nim  that  fire  had  on  incense,  which  causes  the  finest  and 
richest  essences  to  evaporate. 

Plutarch  has  mentioned  his  father  likewise  ; but  has  :iot  given  us  his 
name  in  any  of  those  writings  that  are  come  down  to  us.  However,  he 
has  borne  honorable  testimony  to  his  memory;  for  he  tells  'us,  that  he 
was  a learned  and  a virtuous  man,  well  acquainted  with  the  philosophy 
and  theology  of  his  time,  and  conversant  with  the  works  of  the  Poets, 
P'utarch,  in  his  Political  Precepts,  mentions  an  instance  of  his  father’s 
d scretion,  which  does  him  great  honor.  ‘H  remember,”  says  he,  “that  I 
was  sent,  when  a very  young  man,  along  with  another  citizen  of  Chaeronea. 
on  an  embassy  to  the  proconsul.  My  colleague  being,  by  some  accident, 
^’jbliged  to  slop  in  the  way,  I proceeded  without  him,  and  executed  our 
commission.  Upon  my  return  to  Chaeronea,  when  I was  to  give  an  ac- 
count in  public  of  my  negotiation,  my  father  took  me  aside,  and  said.  My 
son,  take  care  that  in  the  account  you  are  about  to  give,  you  do  not  men- 
tion yourself  distinctly,  but  jointly  with  your  colleague.  Say  not,  I went^ 
I spoke^  I executed  ; but  we  went^  we  spake,  we  executed.  Thus,  though  your 
colleague  was  incapable  of  attending  you,  he  will  share  in  the  honor  of 
your  success,  as  well  as  in  that  of  your  appointment ; and  you  will  avoid 
that  envy  which  necessarily  follows  all  arrogated  merit.” 

Plutarch  had  two  brothers,  whose  names  were  Timon  and  Lamprias. 
These  were  his  associates  in  study  and  amusement;  and  he  always  speaks 
of  them  with  pleasure  and  affection.  Of  Timon  in  particular  he  says, 
“ Though  Fortune  has,  on  many  occasions,  been  favorable  to  me,  yet  I 
have  no  obligations  to  her  so  great  as  the  enjoyment  of  my  brother  Timon’s 
invariable  friendship  and  kindness.”  Lamprias,  too,  he  mentions  as  inher- 
iting the  lively  disposition  and  good-humor  of  his  grandfather,  who  bore 
the  same  name. 

Some  writers  have  asserted,  that  Plutarch  passed  into  Egypt.  Others 
allege,  that  there  is  no  authority  for  that  assertion ; and  it  is  true,  that  we 
have  no  written  record  concerning  it.  Nevertheless,  we  incline  to  believe 
that  he  did  travel  into  that  country;  and  we  found  our  opinion  on  the  fol- 
lowing reasons.  In  the  first  place,  this  tour  was  a part  of  liberal  educa- 
tion among  the  Greeks ; and  Plutarch,  being  descended  from  a family  of 
distinction,  was,  therefore,  likely  to  enjoy  such  a privilege.  In  the  next 
place,  his  treatise  of  Isis  and  Osiris  shows  that  he  had  a more  than  com 
mon  knowledge  of  the  religious  mysteries  of  the  Egyptians ; and  it  is, 
therefore,  highly  probable  that  he  obtained  this  knowledge  by  being 
conversant  amongst  them.  To  have  written  a treatise  on  so  abstruse  a 
subject,  without  some  more  evident  advantage  than  other  writers  might 
afford  him,  could  not  have  been  agreeable  to  the  genius,  or  consistent 
with  the  modesty,  of  Plutarch. 

However,  supposing  it  doubtful  whether  he  passed  into  Egypt,  there 
is  no  doubt  set  all  that  he  travelled  into  Italy.  Ui>on  what  occasion  he 
visited  that  country,  is  not  quite  so  certain  ; but  he  probably  w’ent  to 
Rome  in  a public  capacity,  on  the  business  of  the  Chaeroneans ; for,  in 
the  life  of  Demosthenes,  he  tells  us,  that  be  had  no  leisure  in  his  journey 
to  Italy  to  learn  the  Latin  language,  on  the  account  of  public  business. 

As  the  passage  here  referred  to  affords  us  further  matter  of  speculation 
for  the  life  of  Plutarch,  we  shall  give  it  as  we  find  it.  “ An  author  who 
would  write  a history  of  events  which  happened  in  a foreign  country,  and 
cannot  be  come  at  in  his  own,  as  he  has  his  materials  to  collect  from  a va- 
riety of  books,  dispersed  in  different  libraries,  his  first  care  should  be  to 
take  up  his  residence  in  some  populous  town  which  has  an,  ambition  foi 
literature.  There  he  will  meet  with  many  curious  and  vMuable  books  ; 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH, 


xiil 


and  the  pai  ticiilars  that  are  wanting  in  writers  he  r.aay,  upon  inquiry,  be 
supplied  with,  by  those  who  have  laid  them  up  in  tlie  faithful  reposittry 
of  memory.  This  will  prevent  his  work  from  being  defective  in  any  ma- 
terial point.  As  to  myself,  I live  in  a little  town  ; and  I choose  to  live 
there,  lest  it  should  become  still  less.  When  I was  in  Rome,  and  nthei 
parts  of  Italy,  I had  not  leisure  to  study  the  Latin  tongue,  on  account  of 
the  public  commission  with  which  I was  charged,  and  the  number  of  peo- 
ple who  came  to  be  instructed  by  me  in  philosophy.  It  was  not,  there- 
fore, till  a late  period  in  life,  that  I began  to  read  the  Roman  authors.'^ 

From  this  short  account  we  may  collect,  with  tolerable  certainty,  the 
following  circumstances : — 

In  the  first  place,  Plutarch  tells  us,  that  while  he  was  resident  in 
Rome,  public  business  and  lectures  in  philosophy  left  him  no  time  for 
Laming  the  Latin  language  ; and  yet,  a little  before,  he  had  observed,  that 
those  who  write  a history  of  foreign  characters  and  events,  ought  to  be 
conversant  with  the  historians  of  that  country  where  the  character  existed, 
and  the  scene  is  laid ; but  he  acknowledges,  that  he  did  not  learn  the 
Latin  language  till  he  was  late  in  life,  because,  when  at  Ron»c,  he  had  not 
time  for  that  purpose. 

We  may,  therefore,  conclude,  that  he  wrote  his  Morals  at  Rome,  and 
his  Lives  atChasronea.  For  the  composition  of  the  former,  the  knowledge 
of  the  Roman  language  was  not  necessary : the  Greek  tongue  was  then 
generally  understood  in  Rome  ; and  he  had  no  necessity  of  making  use 
of  any  other,  when  he  delivered  his  lectures  of  philosophy  to  the  people. 
Those  lectures,  it  is  more  than  probable,  made  up  that  collection  of  Mor- 
als which  is  come  down  to  us. 

Though  he  could  not  avail  himself  of  the  Roman  historians,  in  the 
great  purpose  of  writing  his  Lives,  for  want  of  a competent  acquaintance 
with  the  language  in  which  they  wrote,  yet,  by  conversing  with  the  princi- 
pal citizens  in  the  Greek  tongue,  he  must  have  collected  many  essential 
circumstances,  and  anecdotes  of  characters  and  events,  that  promoted  his 
design,  and  enriched  the  plan  of  his  work.  The  treasures  he  acquires 
of  this  kind  he  secured  by  means  of  a commonplace-book,  which  he  con- 
stantly carried  about  with  him : and  as  it  appears  that  he  was  at  Rome, 
and  in  other  parts  of  Italy,  from  the  beginning  of  Vespasian’s  reign  to  the 
end  of  Trajan’s,  he  must  have  had  sufficient  time  and  opportunity  to  procure 
materials  of  every  kind  ; for  this  was  a period  of  almost  forty  years. 

We  shall  more  readily  enter  in  the  belief  that  Plutarch  collected  his 
materials  chiefly  from  conversation,  when  we  consider  in  what  manner,  and 
on  what  subjects,  the  ancients  used  to  converse.  The  discourse  of  people 
of  cducaticn  and  distinction  in  those  days  was  somewhat  different  from 
ours.  It  was  not  on  the  i)owers  or  ))edigree  of  a horse — it  was  not  a match 
)f  travelling  between  geese  and  turkeys — it  was  not  on  a race  of  maggots, 
itarted  against  each  other  on  the  table,  when  they  first  came* to  day-light 
rom  the  shell  of  a filbert — it  was  not  by  what  part  you  may  suspend  a 
(ijjaniel  the  longest  without  making  him  whine — it  was  not  on  the  exqui- 
site finesse,  and  the  highest  manoeuvres  of  man.  The  old  Romans  had  no 
ambition  for  attainments  of  this  nature.  They  had  no  such  masters  in 
science  as  Heber  and  Hoyle.  The  taste  of  their  day  did  not  run  so  high. 
The  powers  of  poetry  and  philosophy — the  economy  of  human  life  and 
manners — the  cultivation  of  the  intellectual  faculties — the  enlargement  of 
the  mind — historical  and  political  discussions  on  the  events  of  their  coun- 
try ; these,  and  such  subjects  as  these,  made  the  principal  part  of  their  con- 
versation. Of  this  Plutarch  has  given  us  at  once  a proof  and  a specimen 
in  what  he  calls  his  Sympcsiacs  ; or,  as  our  Selden  calls  it,  his  Table-talk 


XIV 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


From  such  conversations  as  these,  then,  we  cannot  wonder  that  he  was 
able  to  collect  such  treasures  as  were  necessary  for  the  maintenance  of 
his  biographical  undertaking. 

In  the  sequel  of  the  last  quoted  passage,  we  find  another  argument 
which  confirms  us  in  the  opinion  that  Plutarch’s  knowledge  of  the  Roman 
history  was  chiefly  of  colloquial  acquisition.  “ My  method  of  learning 
the  Roman  language,”  says  he,  “ may  seem  strange ; and  yet  it  is  very 
true.  I u^d  not  so  much  gain  the  knowledge  of  things  by  the  words,  as 
words  by  the  knowledge  I had  of  things.”  This  plainly  implies,  that  h< 
was  previously  acquainted  with  the  events  described  in  the  laneruage  h< 
was  learning. 

It  must  be  owned  that  the  Roman  history  had  been  already  written  in 
Greek  by  Polybius  ; and  that,  indeed,  somewhat  invalidates  the  last-men 
tioned  argument.  Nevertheless,  it  has  still  sufficient  evidence  for  its  sup 
port.  There  are  a thousand  circumstances  in  Plutarch’s  Lives,  which 
could  iiOt  be  collected  from  Polybius;  audit  is  clear  to  us,  that  he  did 
not  make  much  use  of  his  Latin  reading. 

lie  acknowledges  that  he  did  not  apply  himself  to  the  acquisition  bt 
that  language  till  he  was  far  advanced  in  life  ; possibly  it  might  be  about 
the  latter  part  of  the  reign  of  Trajan,  whose  kind  disposition  towards  his 
country,  rendered  the  weight  of  public  and  political  business  easy  to  him. 

But  whenever  he  might  begin  to  learn  the  language  of  Rome,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  he  made  no  great  progress  in  it.  This  appears  as  well  from  the 
little  comments  he  has  occasionally  given  us  on  certain  Latin  words,  as 
from  some  passages  in  his  Lives,  where  he  has  professedly  followed  the 
Latin  historians,  and  yet  followed  them  in  an  uncertain  and  erroneous 
manner. 

That  he  wrote  the  lives  of  Demosthenes  and  Cicero  at  Chaeronea,  it 
is  clear  from  his  own  account ; and  it  is  more  than  probable,  too,  that 
the  rest  of  his  Lives  were  written  in  that  retirement ; for  if,  while  he  was 
at  Rome,  he  could  scarcely  find  time  to  learn  the  language,  it  is  hardly  to 
be  supposed  that  he  could  do  more  than  lay  up  materials  for  composi- 
tion. 

A circumstance  arises  here,  which  confirms  to  us  an  opinion  we  have 
long  entertained,  that  the  Book  of  Apophthegms,  which  is  said  to  have 
been  written  by  Plutarch,  is  really  not  his  work.  This  book  is  dedicated 
to  Trajan;  and  the  dedicator,  assuming  the  name  and  character  of  Plu- 
tarch, says  he  had,  before  this,  written  the  Lives  of  illustrious  men : but 
Plutarch  wrote  those  Lives  at  Chaeronea;  and  he  did  not  retire  to  Chae- 
ronea till  after  the  death  of  Trajan. 

There  are  other  proofs,  if  others  were  necessary,  to  show  that  this 
work  was  suppositious  ; for,  in  this  dedication  to  Trajan,  not  the  Iea.sl 
mention  is  made  of  Plutarch’s  having  been  his  preceptor,  of  his  being 
raised  by  him  to  the  consular  dignity,  or  of  his  being  appointed  governo 
af  Illyria.  Dacier,  observing  this,  has  drawn  a wrong  conclusion  from  it 
and,  contrary  to  the  assertion  of  Suidas,  will  have  it,  that  Plutarch  wai 
neither  preceptor  to  Trajan,  nor  honored  with  any  appointments  under 
him.  Had  it  occurred  to  him  that  the  Book  of  Apophthegms  could  not 
be  Plutarch’s  book,  but  that  it  was  merely  an  extract  made  from  his  real 
works,  by  some  industrious  grammarian,  he  would  not  have  been  under 
the  necessity  of  hazarding  so  much  against  the  received  opinion  of  his 
connections  with  Trajan  ; nor  would  he  have  found  it  necessary  to  allow 
him  so  little  credit  to  his  letter  addressed  to  that  emperor,  which  wc  have 
upon  record.  The  letter  is  as  follows  : — 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


PLUTARCH  TO  TRAJAN. 

**  I am  sensible  that  you  sought  not  the  empire.  Your  natural  mod- 
esty would  not  suffer  you  to  apply  for  a distinction  to  which  you  were 
always  entitled  by  the  excellency  of  your  manners.  That  modesty,  how- 
ever, makes  you  still  more  worthy  of  those  honors  you  had  no  ambition 
to  solicit.  Should  your  future  government  prove  in  any  degree  answer 
able  to  your  former  merit,  I shall  have  reason  to  congratulate  both  your 
virtue  and  my  own  good  fortune  on  this  great  event ; but  if  otherwisCj 
you  have  exposed  yourself  to  danger,  and  me  to  obloquy;  for  Rome  will 
never  endure  an  emperor  unv/orthy  of  her ; and  the  faults  of  the  scholar 
will  be  imputed  to  the  master.  Seneca  is  reproached,  and  his  fame  still 
Buffers,  for  the  vices  of  Nero  ; the  reputation  of  Quintilian  is  hurt  by  the 
ill  conduct  of  his  scholars  ; and  even  Socrates  is  accused  of  negligence  in 
the  education  of  Alcibiades.  Of  you,  however,  I have  better  hopes,  and 
flatter  myself  that  your  administration  will  do  honor  to  your  virtues. 
Only  continue  to  be  what  you  are.  Let  your  government  commence  in 
your  breast ; and  lay  the  foundation  of  it  in  the  commands  of  your  pas- 
sions. If  you  make  virtue  the  rule  of  your  conduct,  and  the  end  of  your 
actions,  every  thing  will  proceed  in  harmony  and  order.  I have  ex- 
plained to  you  the  spirit  of  those  laws  and  constitutions  that  were  estab- 
lished by  your  predecessors ; and  you  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  carry 
them  into  execution.  If  this  should  be  the  case,  I shall  have  the  glory 
of  having  formed  an  emperor  to  virtue  ; but  if  otherwise,  let  this  letter 
remain  a testimony  with  succeeding  ages,  that  you  did  not  ruin  the  Ra- 
man empire  under  pretence  of  the  counsels  or  the  authority  of  Plutarch.” 

Why  Dacier  should  think  that  this  letter  is  neither  worthy  of  the  pen, 
nor  written  in  the  manner  of  Plutarch,  it  is  not  easy  to  conceive,  for  it 
has  all  the  spirit,  the  manly  freedom,  and  the  sentimental  turn  of  that 
philosopher. 

We  shall  find  it  no  very  difficult  matter  to  account  for  his  connections 
with  Trajan,  if  we  attend  to  the  manner  in  which  he  lived,  and  to  the  re- 
ception he  met  with  in  Rome.  During  his  residence  in  that  city,  his 
house  was  the  resort  of  the  principal  citizens.  All  that  were  distin- 
guished by  their  rank,  taste,  learning,  or  politeness  sought  his  conversa- 
tion, and  attended  his  lectures.  The  study  of  the  Greek  language  and 
philosophy  were,  at  that  time,  the  greatest  pursuits  of  the  Roman  nobil- 
ity, and  even  the  emperors  honored  the  most  celebrated  professors  with 
their  presence  and  support.  Plutarch,  in  his  Treatise  on  Curiosity,  has 
introduced  a circumstance  which  places  the  attention  that  was  paid  to  his 
lectures  in  a very  strong  light.  ‘‘  It  once  happened,”  says  he,  “ that 
when  I was  speaking  in  public  at  Rome,  Arulenus  Rusticus,  the  same 
^hom  Domitian,  through  envy  of  his  growing  reputation,  afterwards  put 
to  death,  was  one  of  my  hearers.  When  I was  in  the  middle  of  my  dis” 
couisc,  a soldier  came  in,  and  brought  him  a letter  from  the  emperor. 
Upon  this  there  was  a general  silence  through  the  audience,  and  I 
stopped  to  give  him  time  to  peruse  this  letter  ; but  he  would  not  suffer 
It ; nor  did  he  open  the  letter  till  I had  finished  my  lecture,  and  the  au- 
dience was  dispersed.” 

To  understand  the  importance  of  this  compliment,  it  will  be  necessary 
to  consider  the  quality  and  character  of  the  person  who  paid  it.  Arule- 
nus was  one  of  the  greatest  men  in  Rome  ; distinguished  as  well  by  the 
lustre  of  his  family,  as  by  an  honorable  ambition  and  thirst  of  glory.  He 
was  tribune  of  the  people  when  Nero  caused  Pjetus  and  Soranu.s  to  bo 
capitally  condemned  by  a decree  of  the  senate.  When  Soranus  was  dc^ 


XVI 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


liberating  with  his  friends,  whether  he  should  attempt,  or  give  up  his 
tcnce,  Arulenus  had  the  spirit  to  propose  an  opposition  to  the  decree  oi 
the  senate,  in  his  capacity  of  tribune ; and  he  would  have  carried  it  into 
execution,  had  he  not  been  overruled  by  Paetus,  who  remonstrated,  that 
by  such  a measure  he  would  destroy  himself,  without  the  satisfaction  of 
serving  his  friend.  He  was  afterwards  praetor  after  Vitellius,  whose  in- 
terests he  followed  with  the  greatest  fidelity.  But  his  spirit  and  magnan- 
imity do  him  the  greatest  honor,  in  that  eulogy  which  he  wrote  on  Paetts 
and  Helvidius  Priscus.  His  whole  conduct  was  regulated  by  the  pre- 
cepts of  philosophy ; and  the  respect  he  showed  to  Plutarch  on  this  oc- 
casion was  a proof  of  his  attachment  to  it.  Such  was  the  man  wno  post- 
poned the  letter  of  a prince  to  the  lecture  of  a philosopher. 

But  Plutarch  was  not  only  treated  with  general  marks  of  distinction 
by  the  superior  people  in  Rome  ; he  had  particular  and  very  respectable 
friendships.  Sossius  Senecio,  who  was  four  times  consul,  once  under 
Nerva,  and  thrice  under  Trajan,  was  his  most  intimate  friend.  To  him 
he  addresses  his  Lives,  except  that  of  Aratus,  which  is  inscribed  to  PolV' 
crates  of  Sicyon,  the  grandson  of  Aratus.  With  Senecio  he  not  only 
lived  in  the  strictest  friendship  whilst  he  was  in  Rome,  but  corresponded 
with  him  after  he  retired  to  Greece.  And  is  it  not  easy  to  believe,  that 
through  the  interest  of  this  zealous  and  powerful  friend,  Plutarch  might 
not  only  be  appointed  tutor  to  Trajan,  but  be  advanced  likewise  to  the 
consular  dignity  ? When  we  consider  Plutarch’s  eminence  in  Rome  as  a 
teacher  of  philosophy,  nothing  can  be  more  probable  than  the  former : 
when  we  remember  the  consular  interest  of  Senecio  under  Trajan,  and 
his  distinguished  regard  for  Plutarch,  nothing  can  be  more  likely  than  the 
latter. 

The  honor  of  being  preceptor  to  such  a virtuous  prince  as  Trajan,  is 
so  important  a point  in  the  life  of  Plutarch,  that  it  must  not  hastily  be 
given  up.  Suidas  has  asserted  it.  The  letter  above  quoted,  if  it  be,  as 
we  have  no  doubt  of  its  being,  the  genuine  composition  of  Plutarch,  has 
confirmed  it.  Petrarch  has  maintained  it.  Dacier  only  has  doubted,  or 
rather  denied  it.  But  upon  what  evidence  has  he  grounded  his  opinion  ? 
Plutarch,  he  says,  was  but  three  or  four  years  older  than  Trajan,  and 
therefore  was  unfit  to  be  his  preceptor  in  philosophy.  Now  let  us  in- 
quire into  the  force  of  this  argument.  Trajan  spent  the  early  part  of  his 
life  in  arms  : Plutarch  in  the  study  of  the  sciences.  When  that  prince 
applied  himself  to  literary  pursuits,  he  was  somewhat  advanced  in  life  : 
Plutarch  must  have  been  more  so.  And  why  a man  of  science  should  be 
an  unfit  preceptor  in  philosophy  to  a military  man,  though  no  more  than 
four  years  older,  the  reason,  we  apprehend,  will  be  somewhat  difficult  to 
discover. 

Dacier,  moreover,  is  reduced  to  a petitio prmcipii^  when  he  says  that 
Plutarch  was  only  four  years  older  than  Trajan  ; for  we  have  seen  that  it 
Is  impossible  to  ascertain  the  time  of  Plutarch’s  birth,  and  the  date  which 
Dacier  assigns  it  is  purely  conjectural  ; we  will  therefore  conclude,  with 
those  learned  men  who  have  formerly  allowed  Plutarch  the  honor  of  be- 
ing preceptor  to  Trajan,  that  he  certainly  was  so.  There  is  little  doubt 
that  they  grounded  their  assertions  upon  proper  authority  ; and,  indeed, 
the  internal  evidence  arising  from  the  nature  and  effects  of  that  educa- 
tion, which  did  honor  to  the  scholar  and  to  the  master,  comes  in  aid  of 
the  argument. 

Some  chronologers  have  taken  upon  them  to  ascertain  the  time  w'hen 
Plutarch’s  reputation  was  established  in  Rome.  Peter  of  Alexandria 
fixes  it  in  the  thirteenth-  year  of  the  reign  of  Nero,  in  the  consulate  of 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCIL 


xvii 


Gapito  and  Rufus : LdC’'in/^  says  he,  **  was,  at  this  time,  in  great  repu- 
tation amongst  the  Romans ; and  Musonius  and  Plutarch  were  well 
known/'  Eusebius  brings  it  one  year  lower,  and  tells  us,  that,  in  the 
fourteenth  year  of  Nero's  reign,  Musonius  and  Plutarch  were  in  great 
reputation.  Both  these  writers  are  palpably  mistaken.  We  have  seen, 
that  in  the  twelfth  year  of  Nero,  Plutarch  was  yet  at  school  under  Ain- 
monius ; and  it  is  not  very  probable  that  a school-boy  should  be  cele- 
brated as  a philosopher  in  Rome  within  a year  or  two  after.  Indeed, 
Eusebius  contradicts  himself ; for,  on  another  occasion,  he  places  him  in 
the  reign  of  Adrian,  the  third  year  of  the  Olympiad  224,  of  the  Christian 
asra  120.  ‘^In  this  year,”  says  he,  “ the  philosophers  Plutarch  of  Chse- 
ronea,  Sextus,  and  Agathobulus,  flourished.”  Thus  he  carries  him  as 
much  too  low,  as  he  had  before  placed  him  too  high.  It  is  certain  that 
he  first  grew  into  reputation  under  the  reign  of  Vespasian,  and  that  his 
philosophical  fame  was  established  in  the  time  of  Trajan. 

It  seems  that  the  Greek  and  Latin  writers  of  those  times  were  either 
little  acquainted  with  each  other’s  works,  or  that  there  were  some  literary 
jealousies  and  animosities  between  them.  When  Plutarch  flourished, 
there  were  several  contemporary  writers  of  distinguished  abilities : Per- 
seus, Lucan,  Silius  Italicus,  Valerius  Flaccus,  the  younger  Pliny,  Solinus, 
Martial,  Quintilian,  and  many  more.  Yet  none  of  those  have  made  the 
least  mention  of  him.  Was  this  envy?  or  was  it  Roman  pride?  Pos- 
sibly they  could  not  bear  that  a Greek  sophist,  a native  of  such  a con- 
temptible town  as  Chaeronea,  should  enjoy  the  palm  of  literary  praise  in 
Rome.  It  must  be  observed,  at  the  same  time,  that  the  principal  Roman 
writers  had  conceived  a jealousy  of  the  Greek  philosophers,  which  was 
very  prevailing  in  that  age.  Of  this  we  find  a strong  testimony  in  the 
elder  Pliny,  where,  speaking  of  Cato  the  Censor’s  disapproving  and  dis- 
missing the  Grecian  orators,  and  of  the  younger  Cato’s  bringing  in 
triumph  a sophist  from  Greece,  he  exclaims  in  terms  that  signified  con- 
tempt, quanta  mortem  commutatiol 

Ilowever,  to  be  undistinguished  by  the  encomiums  of  contemporary 
writers,  was  by  no  means  a thing  peculiar  to  Plutarch.  It  has  been,  and 
still  is,  the  fate  of  superior  genius,  to  be  beheld  either  with  silent  or 
abusive  envy.  It  makes  its  way  like  the  sun,  which  we  look  upon  with 
pain,  unless  something  passes  over  him  that  obscures  his  glory.  We 
then  view  with  eagerness  the  shadow,  the  cloud,  or  the  spot,  and  are 
pleased  with  what  eclipses  the  brightness  we  otherwise  cannot  bear. 

Yet,  if  Plutarch,  like  other  great  men,  found  “ Envy  never  conquered 
but  by  death,”  his  manes  have  been  appeased  by  the  amplest  atone- 
ments. Amongst  the  many  that  have  done  honor  to  his  memory,  the 
following  eulogiums  deserve  to  be  recorded : — 

Aulus  Gellius  compliments  him  with  the  highest  distinction  in 
icicnce.* 

Taurus,  quoted  by  Gellius,  calls  him  a man  of  the  most  consummate  , 
karning  and  wisdom.t 

Eusebius  places  him  at  the  head  of  the  Greek  philosophers.|: 

Sardianus,  in  his  preface  to  the  Lives  of  the  Philosophers,  calls  him 
the  most  divine  Plutarch,  the  beauty  and  harmony  of  philosophy. 

Petrarch,  in  his  moral  writings,  frequently  distinguishes  him  by  the 
title  of  ihe  great  Plutarch. 

Honor  has  been  done  to  him  likewise  by  Origen,  Himerius  the 
Sophist,  Cyrillus,  Theodoret,  Suidas,  Photius,  Xiphilinus,  Joannes,  Salis- 

• A.  GelHua,  lib.  iv.  cap.  7.  t Cell.  lib.  i.  cap.  a6.  t Euaeb  Praep.  lib.  iii.  init. 


xviil 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


beriensis,  Victorias,  Lipsius,  and  Agathias,  in  the  epigram  which  is  that 
translated  by  Dryden  : — 

Cliaeronean  PI  jtarch,  to  thy  deathless  praise 

Does  martial  Rome  this  grateful  statue  raise  ; 

Because  both  Greece  and  she  thy  fame  have  shared  ; 

Their  heroes  written,  and  their  lives  compared. 

But  thou  thyself  couldst  never  write  thy  own : 

Their  lives  have  parallels,  but  thine  has  none. 

But  this  is  perfectly  extravagant.  We  are  much  better  pleased  with  the 
Greek  verses  of  the  honest  metropolitan  under  Constantine  Monomachus.. 
Vhay  deserve  to  be  translated. 

Lord  of  that  light,  that  living  power,  to  save 

Which  her  lost  sons  no  Heathen  Science  gave  ; 

If  aught  of  these  thy  mercy  means  to  spare. 

Yield  Plato,  Lord, — yield  Plutarch  to  my  prayer. 

Led  by  no  grace,  no  new  conversion  wrought. 

They  felt  thy  own  divinity  of  thought. 

That  grace  exerted,  spare  the  partial  rod : 

The  last,  best  witness,  that  thou  art  their  God  1 

Theodore  Gaza,  who  was  a man  of  considerable  learning,  and  a greal 
reviver  of  letters,  had  a particular  attachment  to  our  biographer.  When 
he  was  asked,  in  case  of  a general  destruction  of  books,  what  author  he 
should  wish  to  save  from  the  ruin,  he  answered,  Plutarch.  He  consid- 
ered his  historical  and  philosophical  writings  as  the  most  beneficial  to 
society,  and,  of  course,  the  best  substitute  for  all  other  books. 

Were  it  necessary  to  produce  further  suffrages  for  the  merit  of  Plu- 
tarch, it  would  be  sufificient  to  say  that  he  has  been  praised  by  Mon- 
taigne, St.  Evremont  and  Montesquieu,  the  best  critics  and  the  ablest 
writers  of  their  time. 

After  receiving  the  most  distinguished  honors  that  a philosopher 
could  enjoy  ; after  the  godlike  office  of  teaching  wisdom  and  goodness  to 
the  metropolis  of  the  world  ; after  having  formed  an  emperor  to  virtue  ; 
and  after  beholding  the  effects  of  his  precepts  in  the  happiness  of  human- 
kind, Plutarch  retired  to  his  native  country.  The  death  of  his  illustrious 
prince  and  pupil,  to  a man  of  his  sensibility,  must  have  rendered  Rome 
even  painful ; for  whatever  influence  philosophy  may  have  on  the  cultiva- 
tion of  the  mind,  we  find  that  it  has  very  little  power  over  the  interests  of 
the  heart. 

It  must  have  been  in  the  decline  of  life  that  Plutarch  retired  to  Chae- 
ronea.  But  though  he  withdrew  from  the  busier  scenes  of  the  world,  he 
fled  not  to  an  unprofitable  or  inactive  solitude.  In  that  retirement  he 
formed  the  great  work  for  which  he  had  so  long  been  preparing  mate- 
rials, his  Lives  of  Illustrious  Men  ; a work  which,  as  Scaliger  says,  non 
wlum  fuit  in  77ianibus  honiinum^  at  etiam  humani  generis  meinoriavi  occupa^ 
i it. 

T o recommend  by  encomiums  what  has  been  received  with  universal 
approbation, '•would  be  superfluous.  But  to  observe  where  the  biographer 
has  excelled,  and  in  what  he  has  failed  ; to  make  a due  estimate  as  well 
of  the  defects  as  of  the  merits  of  his  work,  may  have  its  use. 

Lipsius  has  observed  that  he  does  not  write  history,  but  scraps  of 
history;  no7t  historiam^  sed particulas  historic.  This  is  said  of  his  Lives, 
and,  in  one  sense,  it  is  true.  No  single  life  that  he  has  written  will  af- 
ford a sufficient  history  of  its  proper  period  ; neither  was  it  possible  that 
it  should  do  so.  As  his  plan  comprised  a number  of  cotemporary  lives, 
most  of  which  were  in  public  characters,  the  business  of  their  period  was 


LIFl£  OF  PLUTARCH. 


XIX 


to  be  divided  amongst  them.  The  general  history  of  the  time  was  to  be 
thrown  into  separate  portions  ; and  those  portions  were  to  be  allotted  to 
such  characters  as  had  the  principal  interest  in  the  several  events. 

This  was,  in  some  measure,  done  by  Plutarch ; but  it  was  not  done 
with  great  art  or  accuracy.  At  the  same  time,  as  we  have  already  ob- 
served, it  was  not  to  be  wondered  if  there  were  some  repetitions,  w’hen 
the  part  which  the  several  characters  bore  in  the  principal  events  waf 
necessary  to  be  pointed  out. 

Yet  these  scraps  of  history,  thus  divided  and  dispersed,  when  seen  in 
a collective  form,  make  no  very  imperfect  narrative  of  the  times  wnthin 
tlreir  view.  Their  biographer’s  attention  to  the  minuter  circumstar  ces  of 
character,  his  disquisitions  of  principles  and  manners,  and  his  political 
and  philosophical  discussions,  lead  us  in  an  easy  and  intelligent  manne/ 
to  the  events  he  describes. 

It  is  not  to  be  denied  that  his  narratives  are  sometimes  disorderly, 
and  too  often  encumbered  with  impertinent  digressions.  By  pursuing 
with  too  much  indulgence  the  train  of  ideas,  he  has  frequently  destroyed 
the  order  of  facts,  brought  together  events  that  lay  at  a distance  from 
each  other,  called  forward  those  circumstances  to  which  he  should  have 
made  a regular  progress,  and  made  no  other  apology  for  these  idle  ex- 
cursions, but  by  telling  us  that  he  is  out  of  the  order  of  time. 

Notes,  in  the  time  of  Plutarch,  were  not  in  use.  Had  he  known  the 
convenience  of  marginal  writing,  he  \vould  certainly  have  thrown  the 
greatest  part  of  his  digressions  into  that  form.  They  are,  undoubtedly, 
tedious  and  disgustful ; and  all  we  can  do  to  reconcile  ourselves  to  them, 
is  to  remember  that,  in  the  first  place,  marginal  writing  was  a thing  un- 
known ; and  that  the  benevolent  desire  of  conveying  instruction  was  the 
greatest  motive  with  the  biographer  in  introducing  them.  This  appears, 
at  least,  from  the  nature  of  them ; for  they  are  chiefly  disquisitions  in 
natural  history  and  philosophy. 

In  painting  the  manners  of  men,  Plutarch  is  truly  excellent.  Nothing 
can  be  more  clear  than  his  moral  distinctions  ; not&ing  finer  than  the  de- 
lineations of  the  mind. 

The  spirit  of  philosophical  observation  and  inquiry,  which,  whee 
properly  directed,  is  the  great  ornament  and  excellence  of  historical  com- 
position, Plutarch  possessed  in  an  eminent  degree.  His  biographical 
writings  teach  philosophy  at  once  by  precept  and  by  example.  His  mor- 
als and  his  characters  mutually  explain  and  give  force  to  each  other. 

His  sentiments  Df  the  duty  of  a historian  were  peculiarly  just  and 
delicate.  This  w^ill  appear  from  his  strictures  on  those  historians  who 
wrote  of  Philistus,  “ It  is  plain,”  says  he,  “ that  Timaeus  takes  every  oc- 
casion, from  Philistus’s  known  adherence  to  arbitrary  power,  to  load  him 
with  the  heaviest  reproaches.  Those  whom  he  injured  are  in  some  de- 
gree excusable,  if,  in  their  resentment,  they  treated  him  with  indignities 
after  death.  But  wherefore  should  his  biographers,  whom  he  never  im 
jured,  and  who  have  had  the  benefit  of  his  works  ; wherefore  should  they 
esh  bit  him  with  all  the  exaggerations  of  scurrility,  in  those  scenes  of 
distress  to  which  fortune  sometimes  reduces  the  best  of  men  } On  the 
other  hand,  Ephorus  is  no  less  extravagant  in  his  encomiums  on  PhHis- 
tus.  He  knows  w'ell  how  to  throw  into  shades  the  foibles  of  the  human 
charactei,  and  to  give  an  air  of  plausibility  to  the  most  indefensible  con- 
duct ; but  w'ith  all  his  elegance,  with  all  his  art,  he  cannot  rescue  Philis- 
tus from  the  imputation  of  being  the  most  strenuous  supporter  of  arbi- 
trary power,  of  being  the  fondest  follower  and  admirer  of  the  luxury,  the 
magnificence,  the  alliance  of  tyrants  Upon  the  whole,  he  who  neither 


XIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


tx 

Ltie  principles  of  Philistus,  nor  insults  over  his  misfortunes,  will 
best  discharge  the  duties  of  the  historian.” 

There  is  such  a thing  as  constitutional  religion.  There  is  a certain 
temper  and  frame  of  mind  naturally  productive  of  devotion.  There  are 
men  who  are  born  with  the  original  principles  of  piety  ; and  in  this  class 
we  need  not  hesitate  to  place  Plutarch. 

If  this  disposition  has  sometimes  made  him  too  indulgent  to  supersti- 
tion, and  too  attentive  to  the  less  rational  circumstances  of  the  heathen 
theology,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered.  But,  upon  the  whole,  he  had  consis* 
tent  and  honorable  notions  of  the  Supreme  Being. 

That  he  believed  the  unity  of  the  Divine  Nature,  we  have  already  seen 
m his  observations  on  the  word  et,  engraved  on  Apollo’s  temple.  The 
same  opinion  too  is  found  in  his  “Treatise  on  the  Cessation  of  Or?sles;” 
where  in  the  character  of  a Platonist,  he  argued  against  the  Stoics  who 
deniefi  the  plurality  of  worlds.  “If  there  are  many  worlds,  said  the 
Stoics,  why  then  is  there  only  one  Fate,  and  one  Providence  to  guide 
them  ? for  the  Platonists  allow  that  there  is  but  one.  Why  should  not 
many  Jiipiters,  or  Gods,  be  necessary  for  the  government  of  many 
worlds.?”  To  this  Plutarch  answers,  “ Where  is  the  necessity  of  sup- 
posing many  Jupiters  for  this  plurality  of  worlds  ? Is  not  one  Excellent 
Being,  endued  with  reason  and  intelligence,  such  as  He  is  whom  we  ac- 
knowledge to  be  the  Father  and  Lord  of  all  things,  sufficient  to  direct  and 
rule  these  worlds  ? If  there  were  more  supreme  agents,  their  decrees 
would  be  vain,  and  contradictory  to  each  other.” 

But  though  Plutarch  acknowledged  the  individuality  of  the  Supreme 
Being,  he  believed,  nevertheless,  in  the  existence  of  intermediate  beings 
of  an  inferior  order,  between  the  divine  and  the  human  nature.  These 
beings  he  calls  genii,  or  daemons.  It  is  impossible,  he  thinks,  from  the 
general  order  and  principles  of  creation,  that  there  should  be  no  mean 
betwixt  the  two  extremes  of  a mortal  and  immortal  being ; that  there  can- 
not be  in  nature  so  great  a vacuum,  without  some  intermediate  species  of 
fife,  which  might  in  some  measure  partake  of  both.  And  as  we  find  the 
connection  between  soul  and  body  to  be  made  by ‘means  of  the  animai 
spirits,  so  these  daemons  are  intelligences  between  divinity  and  humanity 
Their  nature,  however,  is  believed  to  be  progressive.  At  first  they  are 
supposed  to  have  been  virtuous  men,  whose  souls,  being  refined  from  the 
gross  parts  of  their  former  existence,  are  admitted  into  the  higher  order 
of  genii,  and  are  from  thence  either  raised  to  a more  exalted  mode  of 
ethereal  being,  or  degraded  to  mortal  forms,  according  to  their  merit  or 
their  degeneracy.  One  order  of  these  genii,  he  supposes,  presided  over 
oracles ; others  administered,  under  the  Supreme  Being,  the  affairs  and 
the  fortunes  of  men,  supporting  the  virtuous,  punishing  the  bad,  and 
Eomstimes  even  communicating  with  the  best  and  purest  natures.  Thus 
Llie  genius  of  Socrates  still  warned  him  of  approaching  danger,  and  taught 
him  to  avoid  it 

It  is  this  order  of  beings  which  the  late  Mr.  Thomson,  who  in  eii« 
thusiasm  was  a Platonist,  and  in  benevolence  a Pythagorean,  has  so 
beautifully  described,  in  his  Seasons  : and  as  if  the  good  bard  had  be- 
lieved the  doctrine,  he  pathetically  invokes  a favorite  spirit  which  had 
lately  forsaken  its  former  mansion  : — 

And  art  thou,  Stanley,  of  that  sacred  band  ? 

Alas  I for  us  too  soon ! 

Such  were  Plutarch’s  religious  principles;  and  as  a proof  that  he 
thought  them  of  consequence,  he  entered,  after  his  retirement,  into  a 
sacred  character,  and  was  consecrated  priest  of  Apollo. 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


XXI 


This  was  not  his  sole  appointment,  when  he  returned  to  Chaeronea. 
He  united  the  sacerdotal  with  the  magistratial  character,  and  devoted 
himself  at  once  to  the  service  of  the  gods,  and  to  the  duties  of  society. 
He  did  not  think  that  philosophy,  or  the  pursuit  of  letters,  ought  to  ex- 
empt any  man  from  personal  service  in  the  community  to  which  he  (be- 
longed : and  though  his  literary  labors  were  of  the  greatest  importance  to 
the  woild,  he  sought  no  excuse  in  those  from  discharging  offices  of  pub- 
lic trust  in  his  little  city  of  Chaeronea. 

It  appears  that  he  passed  through  several  of  these  offices,  and  that  he 
was,  at  last,  appointed  archon,  or  chief  magistrate  of  the  city.  Whether 
he  retained  his  superintendency  of  Illyria  after  the  death  of  Trajan,  we  do 
not  certainly  know  ; but,  in  this  humble  sphere,  it  will  be  worth  our 
while  to  inquire  in  what  manner  a philosopher  would  administer  justice. 

With  regard  to  the  inferior  offices  that  he  bore,  he  looked  upon  them 
in  the  same  light  as  the  great  Epaminondas  had  done,  wffio,  when  he  was 
appointed  to  a commission  beneath  his  rank,  observed  **  that  no  office 
could  give  dignity  to  him  that  held  it ; but  that  he  who  held  it  might 
give  dignity  to  any  office.’*  It  is  not  unentertaining  to  hear  our  philos- 
opher apologize  for  his  employment  when  he  discharges  the  office  of 
commissioners  of  sewers  and  public  buildings.  “ I make  no  doubt,”  says 
/le,  “ that  the  citizens  of  Chaeronea  often  smile,  w'hen  they  see  me  em- 
ployed in  such  offices  as  these.  On  such  occasions,  I generally  call  to 
mind  what  is  said  of  Antisthenes : when  he  was  bringing  home,  in  his 
own  hands,  a dirty  fish  from  the  market,  some,  who  observed  it,  ex- 
pressed their  surprise  ; ‘It  is  for  myself,’  said  Antisthenes,  ‘ that  I carry 
this  fish.’  On  the  contrary,  for  my  own  part,  when  I am  rallied  for 
measuring  tiles,  or  for  calculating  a quantity  of  stones  or  mortar,  I an- 
swer, that  it  is  not  for  myself  I do  these  things,  but  for  my  country.  For, 
in  all  things  of  this  nature,  the  public  utility  takes  off  the  disgrace ; and 
the  meaner  the  office  you  sustain  may  be,  the  greater  is  the  compliment 
that  you  pay  to  the  public.” 

Plutarch,  in  the  capacity  of  a public  magistrate,  was  indefatigable  ia 
recommending  unanimity  to  the  citizens.  To  carry  this  point  more  ef- 
fectually, he  lays  it  down  as  a first  principle,  that  a magistrate  should  be 
affable  and  easy  of  access ; that  his  house  should  always  be  open  as  a 
place  of  refuge  for  those  wffio  sought  for  justice ; and  that  he  should  not 
satisfy  himself  merely  with  allotting  certain  hours  of  the  day  to  sit  for 
the  despatch  of  business,  but  that  he  should  employ  a part  of  his  time  in 
private  negotiations,  in  making  up  domestic  quarrels,  and  reconciling 
divided  friends.  This  employment  he  regarded  as  one  of  the  principal 
parts  of  his  office  ; and,  indeed,  he  might  properly  consider  it  in  a polit- 
ical lignt ; for  it  too  frequently  happens,  that  the  most  dangerous  public 
factions  are  at  first  kindled  by  private  misunderstandings.  Thus,  in  one 
part  of  his  works,  he  falls  into  the  same  sentiment;  “As  public  confia- 
graiions,”  says  he,  “ do  not  always  begin  in  public  edifices,  but  are  caused 
more  frequer.tly  by  some  lamp  neglected  in  a private  house  ; so  in  the 
administration  of  states,  it  does  not  always  happen  that  the  flame  of  sedi- 
tion arises  from  political  differences,  but  from  private  dissentions,  which, 
running  through  a long  chain  of  connections,  at  length  affect  the  whole 
body  of  the  people.  For  this  reason,  it  is  one  of  the  principal  duties  ol 
a minister  of  state  or  magistrate,  to  heal  these  private  animosities,  and  to 
prevent  them  from  growing  into  public  divisions.”  After  these  observa- 
tions, he  mentions  several  states  and  cities  which  had  owed  their  ruin  to 
the  same  little  causes  ; and  then  adds,  that  we  ought  not  by  any  means  to 
be  inattentive  to  the  roisunderstandirgs  of  private  men,  but  apply  to  them 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


K^W 

the  mo‘ t timely  remedies ; for,  by  proper  care,  as  Cato  observes,  what  is 
great  becomes  little  ; and  what  is  little  is  reduced  to  nothing.  Of  the  truth 
of  these  observations,  the  annals  of  our  own  country  we  wish  we  had  no 
reason  to  say  our  own  times,  have  presented  us  with  many  melancholy 
instances. 

As  Plutarch  observed  that  it  was  a fashionable  fault  amongst  men  of 
fortune  to  refuse  a proper  respect  to  magistrates  of  inferior  rank,  he  en- 
deavored to  remove  this  impolitic  evil  as  w’ell  by  precept  as  by  example 
“To  learn  obedience  and  deference  to  the  magistrate,”  says  he,  “is  on<s 
of  the  first  and  best  principles  of  discipline;  nor  ought  these  by  any 
means  to  be  dispensed  with,  though  that  magistrate  should  be  inferior  tc 
us  in  figure  or  in  fortune.  For  how  absurd  is  it,  if,  in  theatrical  exhibi* 
tiois,  the  meanest  actor,  that  wears  a momentary  diadem,  shall  receive 
bis  due  respect  from  superior  players  ; and  yet,  in  civil  life,  men  of 
grciiter  power  or  wealth  shall  withhold  the  deference  that  is  due  to  the 
magistrate  ! In  this  case,  however,  they  should  remember,  that  while 
:hey  consult  their  own  importance,  they  detract  from  the  honor  of  the 
state.  Private  dignity  ought  alw'ays  to  give  place  to  public  authority ; as 
in  Sparta,  it  was  usual  for  the  kings  to  rise  in  compliment  to  the  ephori.” 

With  regard  to  Plutarch’s  political  principles,  it  is  clear  that  he  was, 
even  whilst  at  Rome,  a republican  in  heart,  and  a friend  to  liberty : but 
this  does  him  no  peculiar  honor.  Such  privileges  are  the  birthright  of 
mankind ; and  they  are  never  parted  with  but  through  fear  or  favor.  At 
Rome,  he  acted  like  a philosopher  of  the  w^orld.  Qiiando  noi  siamo  in 
Roma^  noi  faciavio come  Englino  faitnoin  Roma.  He  found  a constitution 
which  he  had  not  power  to  alter ; yet,  though  he  could  not  make  man- 
kind free,  he  made  them  comparatively  happy,  by  teaching  clemency  to 
their  temporary  ruler.” 

At  Chseronea  we  find  him  more  openly  avowdng  the  principles  of 
liberty.  During  his  residence  at  Rome,  he  had  remarked  an  essential 
error  in  the  police.  In  all  complaints  and  processes,  however  trifling, 
the  people  had  recourse  to  the  first  officers  of  state.  13y  this  means  they 
supposed  that  their  interest  would  be  promoted;  but  it  had  a certain 
tendency  to  enslave  them  still  more,  and  to  render  them  the  tools  and 
dependents  of  court  power.  Of  these  measures  the  archon  of  Chseronea 
thus  expresses  his  disapprobation  : “At  the  same  time,”  says  he,  “ that 
we  endeavor  to  render  a city  obedient  to  its  magistrates,  w'e  must  beware 
of  reducing  it  to  a servile  or  too  humiliating  a condition.  Those  who  carry 
every  trifle  to  the  cognizance  of  the  supreme  magistrate,  are  contributing 
all  they  can  to  the  servitude  of  their  country.”  And  it  is  undoubtedly 
true  that  the  habitual  and  universal  exertion  of  authority  has  a natural 
tendency  to  arbitrary  dominion. 

We  have  now  considered  Plutarch  in  the  light  of  a philosopher,  a biog- 
rapher, and  a magistrate ; we  have  entered  into  his  moral,  religious,  and 
political  haracter,  as  well  as  the  informations  we  could  obtain  w'ould 
enable  us.  It  only  remains  that  w^e  view  him  in  the  domestic  sphere  of 
life — that  little,  but  trying  sphere,  where  we  act  wholly  from  ourselves, 
and  assume  no  character  but  that  which  nature  and  education  has  given 
us. 

Dacie  , on  falling  into  this  part  of  Plutarch’s  history,  has  made  a 
whimsica.  observation.  “ There  are  tw'O  cardinal  points,”  says  he,  “ in  a 
man’s  life,  which  determine  his  happiness  or  his  misery.  These  are  his 
birth  and  his  marriage.”  It  is  in  vain  for  a man  to  be  born  fortunate,  if 
he  be  unfortunate  in  his  marriage.  IIow  Dacier  could  reconcile  the  ^ 
trologers  to  this  new  doctrine,  it  is  not  easy  to  say : for,  upon  this  prin 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


xxm 


nple,  a man  must  at  least  have  two  good  stars,  one  for  his  birth-day,  the 
other  for  his  wedding-day  ; as  it  seems  that  the  influence  of  the  natal  star 
could  not  extend  beyond  the  bridal  morn,  but  that  a man  then  falls  urn 
der  a different  dominion. 

At  what  time  Plutarch  entered  into  this  state,  we  are  not  quite  cer- 
tain ; but  as  it  is  not  probable  that  a man  of  his  wisdom  would  marry  at 
an  advanced  time  of  life,  and  as  his  wife  was  a native  of  Ch^eronea,  we 
may  conclude  that  he  married  before  he  went  to  Rome.  However  that 
might  be,  it  appears  that  he  was  fortunate  in  his  choice ; for  his  wife  was 
not  only  well-born  and  well-bred,  but  a woman  of  distinguished  sense  and 
virtue.  Her  name  was  Timoxena. 

Plutarch  appears  to  have  had  at  least  five  children  by  her,  four  sous, 
and  a daughter,  whom,  out  of  regard  for  her  mother,  he  called  Timoxena. 

He  had  given  us  a proof  that  he  had  all  the  tenderness  of  an  affectionate 
father  for  these  children,  by  recording  a little  instance  of  his  daughter's 
natural  benevolence.  **  When  she  was  very  young,"  says  he,  “she  would 
frequently  beg  of  her  nurse  to  give  the  breast  not  only  to  the  other  chil- 
dren, but  to  her  babies  and  dolls,  which  she  considered  as  her  depend- 
ents, and  under  her  protection."  Who  does  not  see,  in  this  simple  cir- 
cumstance, at  once  the  fondness  of  the  parent,  and  the  benevolent  dis- 
position of  the  man  ? 

But  the  philosopher  soon  lost  his  little  blossom  of  humanity.  His 
Timoxena  died  in  her  infancy;  and  if  we  may  judge  from  the  consolatory 
letter  he  wrote  to  her  mother  on  the  occasion,  he  bore  the  loss  as  became 
a philosopher.  “Consider,"  said  he,  “that  death  has  deprived  your 
Timoxena  only  of  small  enjoyments.  The  things  she  knew  were  but  of 
little  consequence,  and  she  could  be  delighted  only  with  trifles.”  In  this 
letter  we  find  a portrait  of  his  wife,  which  does  her  the  greatest  honor. 
From  the  testimony  given  by  her  husband,  it  appears  that  she  was  far 
above  the  general  weakness  and  affectation  of  her  sex.  She  had  no  pas- 
sion for  the  expensiveness  of  dress,  or  the  parade  of  PubluLappearanL,. 

She  thought  every  kind  of  extravagance  blamable  ; and  her  ahiDiuon*^ 
went  not  beyond  the  decencies  and  proprieties  of  life. 

Plutarch  had  before  this  buried  two  of  his  sons,  his  eldest  son,  and  a 
younger  named  Charon ; and  it  appears  from  the  above-mentioned  letter, 
that  the  conduct  of  Timoxena,  on  these  events,  was  worthy  the  wife  of  a 
philosopher.  She  did  not  disfigure  herself  by  change  of  apparel,  or  give 
wa^^  to  the  extravagance  of  grief,  as  women  in  general  do  on  such  oc- 
casions, but  supported  the  dispensations  of  Providence  with  a solemn  and 
rational  submission,  even  when  they  seemed  to  be  most  severe.  She  had 
taken  unwearied  pains,  and  undergone  the  greatest  sufferings,  to  nurse 
her  ‘son  Charon  at  her  own  breast,  at  a time  when  an  abscess  formed  near 
I he  j>ai  i had  obliged  her  to  undergo  an  incision.  Yet,  when  the  child, 
a eared  with  so  much  tender  pain  and  difficulty,  died,  those  who  went  to 
visit  her  on  the  melancholy  occasion,  found  her  house  in  no  more  dis- 
order than  if  nothing  distressful  had  happened.  She  received  her  friends 
as  Admetus  entertained  Hercules,  who,  the  same  day  that  he  buried 
Alceste,  betrayed  not  the  least  confusion  before  his  heroic  guest. 

AVith  a woman  of  so  much  dignity  of  mind  and  excellence  of  disposi- 
tion, a man  of  Plutarch’s  wisdom  and  humanity  must  have  been  infinitely 
happy:  and,  indeed,  it  appears  from  those  precepts  of  conjugal  happiness 
and  affection  which  he  has  left  us,  that  he  has  drawn  his  observations 
from  experience,  and  that  the  rules  he  recommended  had  been  previously 
exemplified  in  his  own  family. 

It  is  said  that  Plutarch  had  some  misunderstanding  with  his  wife's 


XXIV 


LIFE  OF  PLUTARCH. 


relations ; upon  which  Timoxena,  fearing  that  it  might  affect  their 
had  duty  and  religion  enough  to  go  as  far  as  Mount  Helicon  and  sacri- 
fice to  Love,  who  had  a celebrated  temple  there. 

He  left  two  sons,  Plutarch  and  Lamprius.  The  latter  appears  to 
have  been  a philosopher,  and  it  is  to  him  we  are  indebted  for  a catalogue 
of  his  father’s  writings  ; which,  however,  one  cannot  look  upon,  as  Mr. 
Dryden  says,  without  the  same  emotions  that  a merchant  must  fee]  in 
perusing  a bill  of  freight  after  he  has  lost  his  vessel.  The  writings  no 
longer  extant  are  these  : 


The  Lives  of — 

Hercules, 

Hesiod, 

Pindar, 

Crates  and  Daiphantusj 
with  a Parallel, 

Leonidas, 

Foiu*  Books  of  Commentaries  on  Homer. 
Four  Books  of  Commentaries  on  Hesiod. 

Five  Books  to  Empedocles,  on  the  Quintes- 
sence. 

Five  Books  of  Essays. 

Three  Books  of  Fables. 

Three  Books  of  Rhetoric. 

Three  Bocks  on  the  Introduction  of  the  Soul. 
Two  Books  of  Extracts  from  the  Philosophers. 
Three  Books  on  Sense. 

Three  Books  on  the  great  Actions  of  Cities. 
Two  Books  on  Politics. 


Caligula, 

Vitellius, 

Epaminondas  and  tha 
Elder  Scipio,  with  a 
Parallel. 


An  Essay  on  C^portunity,  to  Theophras- 
tus. F our  Books  on  the  Obsolete  Parts 
History. 

Two  Books  of  Proverbs. 

Eight  Books  on  the  Topics  of  Aristotle. 
Three  Books  on  Justice,  to  Chrysippos. 
An  Essay  on  Poetry. 

A Dissertation  on  the  Difference  be- 
tween the  Pyrrhonians  and  the 
Academicians. 

A Treatise  to  prove  that  there  was  but 
one  Academy  of  Plato. 


Aristomenes, 

Scipio  Africanus  Junior, 
and  Me  tell  us, 
Augustus, 

Tiberius, 

Claudius, 

Nero, 


Aulus  Gellius  has  taken  a long  story  from  Taurus,  about  Plutarch’s 
method  of  correcting  a slave,  in  which  there  is  nothing  more  than  this, 
that  he  punished  him  like  a philosopher,  and  gave  him  his  discipline 
without  being  out  of  temper. 

Plutarch  had  a nephew  named  Sextus,  who  bci-e  a considerable  repu- 
' — ^^worid'  of  letters,  and  taught  the  Greek  language  and  learn- 
ing to  Marcus  Antonius.  The  character  which  that  philosopher  hai 
given  him,  in  his  First  Book  of  Reflections,  may,  with  great  propriety,  be 
applied  to  his  uncle.  “ Sextus,  by  his  example,  taught  me  mildness  and 
humanity ; to  govern  my  house  like  a good  father  of  a family  ; to  fal! 
into  an  easy  and  unaffected  gravity  of  manners ; to  live  agreeably  to  na- 
ture ; to  find  out  the  art  of  discovering  and  preventing  the  wants  .)£  my 
friends  ; to  connive  at  the  noisy  follies  of  the  ignorant  and  impertinent ; 
and  to  comply  with  the  understandings  and  the  humors  of  men.” 

One  of  the  rewards  of  philosophy  is  long  life ; and  it  is  clear  that 
rintaich  enjoyed  this;  but  of  the  time,  or  the  circumstances  of  his  death# 
m have  no  satisfactory  account. 


J.  AND  W.  LANGHORNE 


PLUTARCH’S  LIVES 


VOLUME  I. 


THESEUS. 

As  geographers,  Sosius,  crowd  into  the  edges  of  their  maps 
parts  of  the  world  which  they  do  not  know  about,  adding  notes 
in  the  margin  to  the  effect,  that  beyond  this  lies  nothing  but 
sandy  deserts  full  of  wild  beasts,  unapproachable  bogs,  Scyth* 
ian  ice,  or  a frozen  sea,  so,  in  this  work  of  mine,  in  which  I 
have  compared  the  lives  of  the  greatest  men  with  one  another, 
after  passing  through  those  periods  which  probable  reasoning 
can  reach  to  and  real  history  find  a footing  iii,  I might  very 
well  say  of  those  that  are  farther  off.  Beyond  this  there  is 
nothing  but  prodigies  and  fictions,  the  only  inhabitants  are  the 
poets  and  inventors  of  fables  : there  is  no  credit,  or  certainty 
any  farther.  Yet,  after  publishing  an  account  of  Lycurgus  the 
lawgiver  and  Numa  the  king,  I thought  I might,  not  without 
reason,  ascend  as  high  as  to  Romulus,  being  brought  by  my 
history  so  near  to  his  time.  Considering  therefore  with  my- 
self— 

Whom  shall  I set  so  great  a man  to  face  ? 

Or  whom  oppose  ? Who’s  equal  to  the  place  ? 

(as  .^schylus  expresses  it),  I found  none  so  fit  as  him  that 
peopled  the  beautiful  and  far-famed  city  of  Athens,  to  be  sei 
in  opposition  with  the  father  of  the  invincible  and  renowned 
city  of  Rome.  Let  us  hope  that  Fable  may,  in  what  shall  fol- 
low, so  submit  to  the  purifying  processes  of  Reason  as  to  take 
the  character  of  exact  history.  In  any  case,  however,  where 
it  shall  be  found  contumaciously  slighting  credibility,  and  re- 
fusing to  be  reduced  to  any  thing  like  probable  fact,  we  shall 
beg  that  we  may  meet  with  candid  readers,  and  such  as  will 
receive  with  indulgence  the  stories  of  antiquity. 


8 


THESEUS. 


Theseus  seemed  to  me  to  resemble  Romulus  in  many  par- 
ticulars. Both  of  them,  born  out  of  wedlock  and  of  uncertain 
parentage,  had  the  repute  of  being  sprung  from  the  gods. 

Both  warriors ; that  by  all  the  world’s  allowed. 

Both  of  them  united  with  strength  of  body  an  equal  vigor  A 
mind  ; and  of  the  two  most  famous  cities  of  the  world,  the  one 
built  Rome,  and  the  other  made  Athens  be  inhabited.  Both 
stand  charged  with  the  rape  of  women  ; neither  of  them  could 
avoid  domestic  misfortunes  nor  jealousy  at  home  ; but  towards 
the  close  of  their  lives  are  both  of  them  said  to  have  incurred 
great  odium  with  their  countrymen,  if,  that  is,  we  may  take 
the  stories  least  like  poetry  as  our  guide  to  the  truth. 

The  lineage  of  Theseus,  by  his  father’s  side,  ascends  as 
high  as  to  Erechtheus  and  the  first  inhabitants  of  Attica.  By 
his  mother’s  side  he  was  descended  of  Pelops.  For  Pelops 
was  the  most  powerful  of  all  the  kings  of  Peloponnesus,  not 
so  much  by  the  greatness  of  his  riches  as  the  multitude  of  his 
children,  having  married  many  daughters  to  chief  men,  and 
put  many  sons  in  places  of  command  in  the  towns  round  about 
him.  One  of  whom,  named  Pittheus,  grandfather  to  Theseus, 
was  governor  of  the  small  city  of  the  I'roezenians,  and  had  the 
repute  of  a man  of  the  greatest  knowledge  and  wisdom  of  his 
time  ; which  then,  it  seems,  consisted  chiefly  in  grave  maxims, 
such  as  the  poet  Hesiod  got  his  great  fame  by,  in  his  book  oi 
Works  and  Days.  And,  indeed,  among  these  is  one  that  they 
ascribe  to  Pittheus, — 

Unto  a friend  suffice 
A stipulated  price  ; 

which,  also,  Aristotle  mentions.  And  Euripides,  by  calling 
Hippolytus  scholar  of  the  holy  Pittheus,”  shows  the  opinion 
that  the  world  had  of  him. 

^Egeus,  being  desirous  of  children,  and  consulting  the 
oracle  of  Delphi,  received  the  celebrated  answer  which  forbade 
him  the  company  of  any  woman  before  his  return  to  Athens, 
But  the  oracle  being  so  obscure  as  not  to  satisfy  him  that  he 
was  clearly  forbid  this,  he  went  to  Troezen,  and  communicated 
to  Pittheus  the  voice  of  the  god,  which  was  in  this  manner,— 

Loose  not  the  wine-skin  foot,  thou  chief  of  men, 

Until  to  Athens  thou  art  come  again. 

Pittheus,  therefore,  taking  advantage  from  the  obscurity  of 
the  oracle,  prevailed  upon  him,  it  is  uncertain  whether  by  per 


THESEUS. 


9 


suasion  or  deceit,  to  lie  with  his  daughter  ^thia.  ^geus 
afterwards,  knowing  her  whom  he  had  lain  with  to  be  Pittheus^s 
daughter,  and  suspecting  her  to  be  with  child  by  him,  left  a 
sword  and  a pair  of  shoes,  hiding  them  under  a great  stone 
that  had  a hollow  in  it  exactly  fitting  them  ; and  went  away 
making  her  only  privy  to  it,  and  commanding  her,  if  she  brought 
forth  a son  who,  when  he  came  to  man’s  estate,  sliouli  be  able 
to  lift  up  the  stone  and  take  away  what  he  had  left  there,  she 
should  send  him  away  to  him  with  those  things  with  all  seciesy, 
and  with  injunctions  to  him  as  much  as  possible  to  conceal 
his  journey  from  every  one;  for  he  greatly  feared  the  Pallan- 
tidae,  who  were  continually  mutinying  against  him,  and  de- 
spised him  for  his  want  of  children,  they  themselves  being  fifty 
brothers,  all  sons  of  Pallas. 

When  ^thra  was  delivered  of  a son,  some  say  that  he  was 
immediately  named  Theseus,  from  the  tokens  which  his  father 
had  put  under  the  stone  ; others  that  he  had  received  his  name 
afterwards  at  Athens,  when  ^geus  acknowledged  him  for  his 
son.  He  was  brought  up  under  his  grandfather  Pittheus,  and 
h^d  a tutor  and  attendant  set  over  him  named  Connidas,  to 
whom  the  Athenians  even  to  this  time,  the  day  before  the  feast 
that  is  dedicated  to  Theseus,  sacrifice  a ram,  giving  this  honor 
to  his  memory  upon  much  juster  grounds  than  to  Silanio  and 
Parrhasius  for  making  pictures  and  statues  of  Theseus.  There 
being  then  a custom  for  the  Grecian  youth,  upon  their  first 
coming  to  man’s  estate,  to  go  to  Delphi  and  offer  first-fruits 
of  their  hair  to  the  god,  Theseus,  also  went  thither,  and  a place 
there  to  this  day  is  yet  named  Thesea,  as  it  is  said,  from  him. 
He  clipped  only  the  fore  part  of  his  head,  as  Homer  says  the 
Abanles  did.  And  this  sort  of  tonsure  was  from  him  named 
Theseus.  The  Abantes  first  used  it,  not  in  imitation  of  the 
Arabians,  as  some  imagine,  nor  of  the  Mysians,  but  because 
they  weic  a warlike  people,  and  used  to  close  fighting,  and 
ab^ve  all  other  nations  accustomed  to  engage  hand  to  hand  ; 
as  Archilochus  testifies  in  these  verses  : — 

Slings  shall  not  whirl,  nor  many  arrows  fly, 

When  on  the  plain  the  battle  joins;  but  swords, 

Man  against  man,  the  deadly  conflict  tr)^ 

As  is  the  practice  of  Euboea^s  lords 
Skilled  with  the  spear. 

I'herefore  that  they  might  not  give  their  enemies  a hold  by 
their  hair,  they  cut  it  in  this  manner.  They  write  also  that 
tills  was  the  reason  why  Alexander  gave  command  to  his  cap 


10 


THESEUS. 


tains  that  all  the  beards  of  the  Macedonians  should  be  shaved^ 
as  being  the  readiest  hold  for  an  enemy. 

^thra  for  some  time  concealed  the  true  parentage  ol 
Theseus,  and  a report  was  given  out  by  Pittheus  that  he  was 
begotten  by  Neptune  ; for  the  Troezenians  pay  Neptune  the 
highest  veneration.  He  is  their  tutelar  god ; to  him  they 
offer  all  their  first-fruits,  and  in  his  honor  stamp  their  money 
with  a trident. 

Theseus  displaying  not  only  great  strength  of  body,  but 
equal  bravery,  and  a quickness  alike  and  force  of  understand- 
ing, his  mother  ^thra,  conducting  him  to  the  stone,  and  in- 
forming him  who  was  his  true  father,  commanded  him  take 
from  thence  the  tokens  that  ^geus  had  left,  and  sail  to 
Athens.  He  without  any  difficulty  set  himself  to  the  stone 
and  lifted  it  up  ; but  refused  to  take  his  journey  by  sea,  though 
it  was  much  the  safer  way,  and  though  his  mother  and  grand- 
father begged  him  to  do  so.  For  it  was  at  that  time  very  dan- 
gerous to  go  by  land  on  the  road  to  Athens,  no  part  cf  it  being 
free  from  robbers  and  murderers.  That  age  produced  a sort 
of  men,  in  force  of  hand,  and  swiftness  of  foot,  and  stren^h 
of  body,  excelling  the  ordinary  rate  and  wholly  incapable  of 
fatigue ; making  use,  however,  of  these  gifts  of  nature  to  no 
good  or  profitable  purpose  for  mankind,  but  rejoicing  and 
priding  themselves  in  insolence,  and  taking  the  benefit  of  their 
superior  strength  in  the  exercise  of  inhumanity  and  cruelty, 
and  in  seizing,  forcing,  and  committing  all  manner  of  outrages 
upon  every  thing  that  fell  into  tlieir  hands  ; all  respect  for 
others,  all  justice,  they  thought,  all  equity  and  humanity,  though 
naturally  lauded  by  common  people,  either  out  of  want  of 
courage  to  commit  injuries  or  fear  to  receive  them,  yet  no  way 
concerned  those  who  were  strong  enough  to  win  for  them- 
selves. Some  of  these,  Hercules  destroyed  and  cut  off  in  his 
passage  through  these  countries ; but  some,  escaping  his 
notice  while  he  was  passing  by,  fled  and  hid  themselves,  or 
else  were  spared  by  him  in  contempt  of  their  abject  submis- 
sion : and  after  that  Hercules  fell  into  misfortune,  and,  having 
slain  Ipliitus,  retired  to  Lydia,  and  for  a long  time  was  there 
slave  to  Omphale,  a punishment  which  he  had  imposed  upon 
himself  for  the  murder  : then,  indeed,  Lydia  enjoyed  high 
peace  and  security,  but  in  Greece  and  the  countries  about  it 
the  like  villanies  again  revived  and  broke  out,  there  being 
none  to  repress  or  chastise  them.  It  was  therefore  a very 
hazardous  journey  to  travel  by  land  from  Athens  to  Pelopon- 
nesus ; and  Pittheus,  giving  him  an  exact  account  of  each  of 


THESEUS. 


I] 


these  robbers  and  villains,  their  strength,  and  the  cruelty  they 
used  to  all  strangers^  tried  to  persuade  Theseus  to  go  by  sea. 
But  he,  it  seems,  had  long  since  been  secretly  bred  by  the 
glory  of  Hercules,  held  him  in  the  highest  estimation,  and  was 
never  more  satisfied  than  in  listening  to  any  that  gave  an 
account  of  him ; especially  those  that  had  seen  him,  or  had 
been  present  at  any  action  or  saying  of  his.  So  that  he  was 
altogether  in  the  same  state  of  feeling  as,  in  after  ages.  The- 
mistocles  was,  when  he  said  that  he  could  not  sieep  foi  the 
trophy  of  Miltiades  ; entertaining  such  admiration  for  the 
virtue  of  Hercules,  that  in  the  night  his  dreams  were  all  of  that 
heroes  actions,  and  in  the  day  a continual  emulation  stirred 
h’m  up  to  perforin  the  like.  Besides,  they  were  related,  being 
born  of  cousins-german.  For  Hithra  was  daughter  of  Pittheus, 
and  Alcmena  of  Lysidice ; and  Lysidice  and  Pittheus- were 
brother  and  sister,  children  of  Hippodamia  and  Pelops.  He 
thought  it  therefore  a dishonorable  thing,  and  not  to  be  en- 
dured, that  Hercules  should  go  out  everywhere,  and  purge 
both  land  and  sea  from  wicked  men,  and  he  himself  should 
fly  from  the  like  adventures  that  actually  came  in  his  way ; 
disgracing  his  reputed  father  by  a mean  flight  by  sea,  and  not 
showing  his  true  one  as  good  evidence  of  the  greatness  of  his 
birth  by  noble  and  worthy  actions,  as  by  the  token  that  he 
brought  with  him,  the  shoes  and  the  sword. 

With  this  mind  and  these  thoughts,  he  set  forward  with  a 
design  to  do  injury  to  nobody,  but  to  repel  and  revenge  him- 
self of  all  those  that  should  offer  any.  And  first  of  all,  in  a 
set  combat,  he  slew  Periphetes,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Epi- 
daurus,  who  used  a club  for  his  arms,  and  from  thence  had  the 
name  of  Corynetes,  or  the  club-bearer  ; who  seized  upon  him, 
and  forbade  him  to  go  forward  in  his  journey.  Being 
pleased  with  the  club,  he  took  it,  and  made  it  his  weapon, 
continuing  to  use  it  as  Hercules  did  the  lion’s  skin,  on  whose 
shoulders  that  served  to  prove  how  huge  a beast  he  had 
killed ; and  to  the  same  end  Theseus  carried  about  him  thin 
club  ; overcome  indeed  by  him,  but,  now,  in  his  handSj  in^ 
vincible. 

Passing  on  further  towards  the  Isthmus  of  Peloponnesus, 
he  slew  Sinnis,  often  surnamed  the  Bender  of  Pines,  after  the 
same  manner  in  which  he  himself  had  destroyed  many  others 
before.  And  this  he  did  without  having  either  practised  or 
ever  learnt  the  art  of  bending  these  trees,  to  show  that  natural 
strength  is  above  all  art.  This  Sinnis  had  a daughter  of 
remarkable  beauty  and  stature,  called  Perigune,  who,  when 


12 


THESEUS. 


her  father  was  killed,  fled,  and  was  sought  after  everywhere 
by  Theseus  ; and  coming  into  a place  overgrown  with  brush' 
wood,  shrubs,  and  asparagus-thorn,  there,  in  a childlike, 
innocent  manner,  prayed  and  begged  them,  as  if  they  under- 
stood her,  to  give  her  shelter,  with  vows  that  if  she  escaped 
she  would  never  cut  them  down  nor  burn  them.  But  Theseus 
calling  upon  her,  and  giving  her  his  promise  that  he  would 
use  her  with  respect,  and  offer  li^r  no  injury,  she  came  fortli, 
and  in  due  time  bore  him  a son,  named  Melanippus  ; but 
afterwards  was  married  to  Deioneus,  the  son  of  Eurytiis,  the 
CEchalian,  Theseus  himself  giving  her  to  him.  loxus,  the 
son  of  this  Melanippus,  who  was  borne  to  Theseus,  accom- 
panied Ornytus  in  the  colony  that  he  carried  with  him  into 
Caria,  whence  it  is  a family  usage  amongst  the  people  called 
loxids,  both  male  and  female,  never  to  burn  either  shrubs  oi 
asparagus-thorn,  but  to  respect  and  honor  them. 

The  Crymm)’onian  sow,  which  they  called  Phaea,  was  a 
savage  and  formidable  wild  beast,  by  no  means  an  enemy  to 
be  despised.  Theseus  killed  her,  going  out  of  his  way  on 
purpose  to  meet  and  engage  her,  so  that  he  might  not  seem 
to  perform  all  his  great  exploits  out  of  mere  necessity  ; being 
also  of  opinion  that  it  was  the  part  of  a brave  man  to  chas- 
tise villanous  and  wicked  men  when  attacked  by  them,  but  to 
seek  out  and  overcome  the  more  noble  wild  beasts.  Others 
relate  that  Phaea  was  a woman,  a robber  full  of  cruelty  and 
lust,  that  lived  in  Crommyon,  and  had  the  name  of  Sow  given 
her  from  the  foulness  of  her  life  and  manners,  and  afterwards 
was  killed  by  Theseus.  He  slew  also  Sciron,  upon  the  bor- 
ders of  Megara,  casting  him  down  from  the  rocks,  being,  as 
most  report,  a notorious  robber  of  all  passengers,  and  as 
others  add,  accustomed,  out  of  insolence  and  wanton  ness,  to 
stietch  forth  his  feet  to  strangers  commanding  them  to  wash 
them,  and  then  while  they  did  it,  with  a kick  to  send  them 
down  the  rock  into  the  sea.  The  writers  of  Megara,  how- 
ever, in  contradiction  to  the  received  report,  and,  as  Simonides 
expresses  it,  ‘‘fighting  with  all  antiquity,”  contend  that  Sciron 
was  neither  a robber  nor  doer  of  violence,  but  a punisher  of 
all  such,  and  the  relative  and  friend  of  good  and  just  men; 
for  ^acus,  they  say,  was  ever  esteemed  a man  of  the  greatest 
sanctity  of  all  the  Greeks  ; and  Cychreus,  the  Salaminian, 
was  honored  at  Athens  with  divine  worship;  and  the  virtues 
of  Peleus  and  Telamon  were  not  unknown  to  any  one.  Now 
Sciron  was  son-in-law  to  Cychreus,  father-in-law  to  ^acus, 
and  grandfather  to  Peleus  and  Telamon,  who  were  both  ol 


THESEUS. 


13 


them  sons  of  Endeis,  the  daughter  of  Sciron  and  Chaiiclo  : 
it  was  not  probable,  therefore,  that  the  best  of  men  should 
make  these  alliances  with  one  who  was  worst,  giving  and  re- 
ceiving mutually  what  was  of  greatest  value  and  most  dear 
to  them.  Theseus,  by  their  account,  did  not  slay  Sciron  in 
his  first  journey  to  Athens,  but  afterwards,  when  he  took 
Eleusis.  a city  of  the  Megarians,  having  circumvented  Diodes, 
the  governor.  Such  are  the  contradictions  in  this  stoty.  In 
Eleusis  he  killed  Cercyon,  the  Arcadian,  in  a wrestling  match. 
And  going  on  a little  farther,  in  Erineus,  he  slew  Dainastes, 
otherwise  called  Procrustes,  forcing  his  body  to  the  size  of 
his  owr  bed,  as  he  himself  was  used  to  do  with  all  strangers  : 
this  he  did  in  imitation  of  Hercules,  who  always  returned 
upon  his  assailants  the  same  sort  of  violence  that  they  offered 
to  him  ; sacrificed  Busiris,  killed  Antaeus  in  wrestling,  and 
Cycnus  in  single  combat,  and  Termerus  by  breaking  his  skull 
in  pieces  (whence,  they  say,  comes  the  proverb  of  ^‘a  Ter- 
merian  mischief”),  for  it  seems  Termerus  killed  passengers 
that  he  met  by  running  with  his  head  against  them.  And  so 
also  Theseus  proceeded  in  the  punishment  of  evil  men,  who 
underwent  the  same  violence  from  him  which  they  had  in- 
flicted upon  others,  justly  suffering  after  the  manner  of  their 
own  injustice. 

As  he  went  forward  on  his  journey,  and  was  come  as  far 
as  the  river  Cephisus,  some  of  the  race  of  the  Phytalidaa 
met  him  and  saluted  him,  and,  upon  his  desire  to  use  the 
purifications,  then  in  custom,  they  performed  them  with  all 
the  usual  ceremonies,  and,  having  offered  propitiatory  sacri- 
fices to  the  gods,  invited  him  and  entertained  him  at  their 
house,  a kindness  which,  in  all  his  journey  hitherto,  he  had 
not  met. 

On  the  eighth  day  of  Cronius,  now  called  Hecatombaeon, 
he  arrived  at  Athens,  where  he  found  the  public  affairs  full 
of  all  confusion,  and  divided  into  parties  and  factions,  Hilgeus 
also,  and  his  whole  private  family,  laboring  under  the  same 
distemper ; for  Medea,  having  fled  from  Corinth,  and  prom- 
ised ^geus  to  make  him,  by  her  art,  capable  of  having 
children,  was  living  with  him.  She  first  was  aware  of  Theseus, 
whom  as  yet  ^geus  did  not  know,  and  he  being  in  years,  full 
of  jealousies  and  suspicions,  and  fearing  every  thing  by  reason 
of  the  faction  that  was  then  in  the  city,  she  easily  persuaded 
him  to  kill  him  by  poison  at  a banquet,  to  which  he  was  to 
be  invited  as  a stranger.  He,  coming  to  the  entertainment, 
thought  it  not  fit  to  discover  himself  at  once,  but  willing  tg 


THESEUS, 


^4 

give  his  father  the  occasion  of  first  finding  him  out,  the  meat 
being  on  the  table,  he  drew  his  sword  as  if  he  designed  to 
cut  with  it ; yEgeus,  at  once  recognizing  the  token,  threw 
down  the  cup  of  poison,  and,  questioning  his  son,  embraced 
him,  and  having  gathered  together  all  his  citizens,  owned  him 
publicly  before  them,  who,  on  their  part,  received  him  gladly 
for  the  fame  of  his  greatness  and  bravery ; and  it  is  said,  that 
when  the  cup  fell,  the  poison  was  spilt  there  where  now  is 
the  enclosed  space  in  the  Delphinium  ; for  in  that  place  stood 
/Egeus’s  house,  and  the  figure  of  Mercury  on  the  east  side  of 
the  temple  is  called  the  Mercury  of  ^geus’s  gate. 

The  sons  of  Pallas,  who  before  were  quiet,  upon  expec- 
tat  on  of  recovering  the  kingdom  after  ^geus^s  death,  who 
was  without  issue,  as  soon  as  Theseus  appeared  and  was 
acknowledged  the  successor,  highly  resenting  that  ^geus 
first,  an  adopted  son  only  of  Pandion,  and  not  at  all  related 
to  the  family  of  Erechtheus,  should  be  holding  the  kingdom, 
and  that  after  him,  Theseus,  a visitor  and  stranger,  should  be 
destined  to  succeed  to  it,  broke  out  into  open  war.  And 
dividing  themselves  into  two  companies,  one  part  of  them 
marched  openly  from  Sphettus,  with  their  father,  against  the 
city,  the  other,  hiding  themselves  in  the  village  of  Gargettus, 
lay  in  ambush,  with  a design  to  set  upon  the  enemy  on  both 
sides.  They  had  with  them  a crier  of  the  township  of  Agnus, 
named  Leos,  who  discovered  to  Theseus  all  the  designs  of 
the  Pallantidae.  He  immediately  fell  upon  those  that  lay  in 
ambuscade,  and  cut  them  all  off  ; upon  tidings  of  which  Pallas 
and  his  company  fled  and  were  dispersed. 

From  hence  they  say  is  derived  the  custom  among  the 
people  of  the  township  of  Pallene  to  have  no  marriages  or 
any  alliance  with  the  people  of  Agnus,  nor  to  suffer  the  criers 
to  pronounce  in  their  proclamations  the  words  used  in  all 
other  parts  of  the  country,  Acouete  Leoi  (Hear  ye  people), 
hating  the  very  sound  of  Leo,  because  of  the  treason  of 

! iCOS. 

Theseus,  longing  to  be  in  action,  and  desirous  also  to 
m ike  himself  popular,  left  Athens  to  fight  with  the  bull  of 
Marathon,  which  did  no  small  mischief  to  the  inhabitants  of 
Tetrapolis.  And  having  overcome  it,  he  brought  it  alive  in 
triumph  through  the  city,  and  afterwards  sacrificed  it  to  the 
Delphinian  Apollo.  The  story  of  Hecale,  also,  of  her  re- 
ceiving and  entertaining  Theseus  in  this  expedition,  seems  to 
be  not  altogether  void  of  truth;  for  the  townsh^’ps  round 
about,  meeting  upon  a certain  day,  used  to  offei  a saerjfice, 


THESEUS. 


IS 

which  they  called  Hecalesia,  to  Jupiter  Hecaleius,  and  to  pay 
honor  to  Hecale,  whom,  by  a diminutive  name,  they  called 
Hecalene,  because  she,  while  entertaining  Theseus,  who  was 
quite  a youth,  addressed  him,  as  old  people  do,  with  similar 
endearing  diminutives  ; and  having  made  a vow  to  Jupiter 
for  him  as  he  was  going  to  the  fight,  that,  if  he  returned  in 
safety,  she  would  offer  sacrifices  in  thanks  of  it,  and  dying 
before  he  came  back,  she  had  these  honors  given  her  by  way 
of  return  for  her  hospitality,  by  the  command  of  Theseus,  as 
Philochorous  tells  us. 

Not  long  after  arrived  the  third  time  from  Crete  the  col- 
lectors of  the  tribute  which  the  Athenians  paid  them  upon  the 
following  occasion.  Androgens  having  been  treacherously 
murdered  in  the  confines  of  Attica,  not  only  Minos,  his  father, 
put  the  Athenians  to  extreme  distress  by  a perpetual  war,  but 
the  gods  also  laid  waste  their  country  ; both  famine  and 
pestilence  lay  heavy  upon  them,  and  even  their  rivers  were 
dried  up.  Being  told  by  the  oracle  that,  if  they  appeased 
and  reconciled  Minos,  the  anger  of  the  gods  would  cease  and 
they  should  enjoy  rest  from  the  miseries  they  labored  under, 
they  sent  heralds,  and  with  much  supplication  were  at  last 
reconciled,  entering  into  an  agreement  to  send  to  Crete  every 
nine  years  a tribute  of  seven  young  men  and  as  many  virgins, 
as  most  writers  agree  in  stating ; and  the  most  poetical  story 
adds,  that  the  Minotaur  destroyed  them,  or  that,  wandering 
in  the  labyrinth,  and  finding  no  possible  means  of  getting 
out,  they  miserably  ended  their  lives  there ; and  that  this 
Minotaur  was  (as  Euripides  hath  it) 

A mingled  form  where  two  strange  shapes  combined, 

And  different  natures,  bull  and  man,  were  joined. 

But  Philochorus  says  that  the  Cretans  will  by  no  means  allow 
the  truth  of  this,  but  say  that  the  labyrinth  was  only  an 
ordinary  prison,  having  no  other  bad  quality  but  that  it 
secured  the  prisoners  from  escaping,  and  that  Minos,  having 
instituted  games  in  honor  of  Androgens,  gave,  as  a reward  to 
the  victors,  these  youths,  who  in  the  mean  time  were  kent  in 
the  labyrinth  ; and  that  the  first  that  overcame  in  those  games 
was  one  of  the  greatest  power  and  command  among  them, 
named  Taurus,  a man  of  no  merciful  or  gentle  disposition, 
who  treated  the  Athenians  that  were  made  his  prize  in  a 
proud  and  cruel  manner.  Also  Aristotle  himself,  in  the 
account  that  he  giv^es  of  the  form  of  government  of  the 
Botticeans,  is  manifestly  of  opinion  that  the  youths  \v(‘re  not 


i6 


THESEUS. 


slain  by  Minos,  but  spent  the  remainder  of  their  days  in 
slavery  in  Crete  ; that  the  Cretans,  in  former  times,  to  acquit 
themselves  of  an  ancient  vow  which  they  had  made,  were 
used  to  send  an  offering  of  the  first-fruits  of  their  men  to 
Delphi,  and  that  some  descendants  of  these  Athenian  slaves 
were  mingled  with  them  and  sent  amongst  them,  and,  unable 
to  get  their  living  there,  removed  from  thence,  first  into  Italy, 
and  settled  about  Japygia  ; from  thence  again,  that  they 
removed  to  Thrace,  and  were  named  Bottiaeans  ; and  that 
this  is  the  reason  why,  in  a certain  sacrifice,  the  Bottiaean 
girls  sing  a hymn  beginning  Let  us  go  to  Athens,  This  may 
show  us  how  dangerous  it  is  to  incur  the  hostility  of  a city 
that  is  mistress  of  eloquence  and  song.  For  Minos  was 
always  ill  spoken  of,  and  represented  ever  as  a very  wicked 
man,  in  the  Athenian  theatres  ; neither  did  Hesiod  avail  him 
by  calling  him  “the  most  royal  Minos, nor  Homer,  who 
styles  him  “ yupiter^s  familiar  frie?id ; the  tragedians  got  the 
better,  and  from  the  vantage  ground  of  the  stage  showered 
down  obloquy  upon  him,  as  a man  of  cruelty  and  violence  \ 
whereas,  in  fact,  he  appears  to  have  been  a king  and  a law- 
giver, and  Rhadamanthus,  a judge  under  him,  administering 
the  statutes  that  he  ordained. 

Now,  when  the  time  of  the  third  tribute  was  come,  and 
the  fathers  who  had  any  young  men  for  their  sons  were  to 
proceed  by  lot  to  the  choice  of  those  that  were  to  be  sent, 
there  arose  fresh  discontents  and  accusations  against  ^geus 
among  the  people,  who  were  full  of  grief  and  indignation 
that  he  who  was  the  cause  of  all  their  miseries  was  the  only 
person  exempt  from  the  punishment ; adopting  and  settling 
his  kingdom  upon  a bastard  and  foreign  son,  he  took  no 
thought,  they  said,  of  their  destitution  and  loss,  not  of 
bastards,  but  lawful  children.  These  things  sensibly  affected 
Theseus,  who,  thinking  it  but  just  not  to  disregard,  but  rathei 
partake  of,  the  sufferings  of  his  fellow-citizens,  offered  him- 
self for  one  without  any  lot.  All  else  were  struck  with 
admiration  for  the  nobleness  and  with  love  for  the  goodness 
of  the  act ; and  ^geus,  after  prayers  and  entreaties,  finding 
him  inflexible  and  not  to  be  persuaded,  proceeded  to  the 
choosing  of  the  rest  by  lot.  Hellanicus,  however,  tells  us 
that  the  Athenians  did  not  send  the  young  men  and  virgins 
by  lot,  but  that  Minos  himself  used  to  come  and  make  his 
own  choice,  and  pitched  upon  Theseus  before  all  others ; 
according  to  the  conditions  agreed  upon  between  them, 
namely,  that  the  Athenians  should  furnish  them  with  a ship, 


THESEUS. 


n 

and  that  the  young  men  that  were  to  sail  with  him  should 
carry  no  weapons  of  war  ; but  that  if  the  Minotaur  was 
destroyed,  the  tribute  should  cease. 

On  the  two  former  occasions  of  the  payment  of  the  tribute, 
entertaining  no  hopes  of  safety  or  return,  they  sent  out  the 
ship  with  a black  sail,  as  to  unavoidable  destruction  ; but  now, 
I'heseus  encouraging  his  father,  and  speaking  greatly  of 
himself,  as  confident  that  he  should  kill  the  Minotaur,  he 
gave  the  pilot  another  sail,  which  was  white,  commanding  hi/iij 
as  he  returned,  if  Theseus  were  safe,  to  make  use  of  that ; 
but  if  rot,  to  sail  wilh  the  black  one,  and  to  hang  out  that 
sign  his  misfortune.  Simonides  says  that  the  sail  which 
.^geus  Leliveied  to  the  pilot  was  not  white,  but 


Scarlet,  in  the  juicy  bloom 
Of  the  living  oak-tree  steeped, 

and  thct  this  was  to  be  the  sign  of  their  escape.  Phereclus, 
son  of  AiUi^rsyas,  according  to  Simonides,  was  pilot  of  the 
ship.  But  Thilochorus  says  Theseus  had  sent  him  by  Scirus, 
from  Salamis,  Nausitholis  to  be  his  steersman,  and  Phaeax 
his  look-out-man  in  the  prow,  the  Athenians  having  as  yet 
not  applied  themselves  to  navigation ; and  that  Scirus  did 
this  because  one  of  the  young  men,  Menesthes,  was  his 
daughter’s  son ; and  this  the  chapels  of  Nausithoiis  and 
Phasax,  buiT  by  Theseus  near  the  temple  of  Scirus,  confirm. 
He  adds,  also,  that  the  feast  named  Cybernesia  was  in 
honor  of  Ihem.  The  lot  being  cast,  and  Theseus  having 
received  out  of  the  Prytaneiim  those  upon  whom  it  fell,  he 
went  to  the  Delphinium,  and  made  an  offering  for  them  to 
Apollo  of  liis  suppliant’s  badge,  which  was  a bough  of  a con- 
seciated  olive  tree,  with  white  wool  tied  about  it. 

Having  thus  performed  his  devotion,  he  went  to  sea,  the 
>ixth  day  of  Munychion,  on  which  day  even  to  this  time  the 
\lhenianr»  send  their  virgins  to  the  same  temple  to  make 
j supplication  to  the  gods.  It  is  farther  reported  that  he  was 
commanded  by  the  oracle  of  Delphi  to  make  Venus  his  guide, 
and  to  invoke  her  as  the  companion  and  conductress  of  his 
voyage,  and  that,  as  he  was  sacrificing  a she  goat  to  her  by 
the  sea-side,  it  was  suddenly  changed  into  a he,  and  for  this 
cause  tliat  goddess  had  the  name  of  Epitragia. 

When  he  arrived  at  Crete,  as  most  of  the  ancient  histori- 
ans as  well  as  poets  tell  us,  having  a clue  of  thread  given  him 
by  Ariadne,  who  had  fallen  in  love  with  him,  and  being 

3 


i8 


THESEUS. 


instructed  by  her  how  to  use  it  so  as  to  conduct  him  through 
the  windings  of  the  labyrinth,  he  escaped  out  of  it  and  slew  the 
Minotaur,  and  sailed  back,  taking  along  with  him  Ariadne  and 
the  young  Athenian  captives,  Pherecydes  adds  that  he  bored 
holes  in  the  bottom  of  the  Cretan  ships  to  hinder  their  pursuit. 
Demon  writes  that  Taurus,  the  chief  captain  of  Minos,  was 
slain  by  Theseus  at  the  mouth  of  the  port,  in  a naval  combat 
as  he  was  sailing  out  for  Athens.  But  Philochorus  gives  lu 
the  story  thus  : That  at  the  setting  forth  of  the  yearly  games 
^ by  King  Minos,  Taurus  was  expected  to  carry  away  the  prize, 
as  he  had  done  before  ; and  was  much  grudged  the  honor. 
His  character  and  manners  made  his  power  hateful,  and  he 
was  accused  moreover  of  too  near  familiarity  with  Pasiphae^ 
for  which  reason,  when  Theseus  desired  the  combat,  Minos 
readily  complied.  And  as  it  was  a custom  in  Crete  that  the 
women  also  should  be  admitted  to  the  sight  of  these  games, 
Ariadne,  being  present,  was  struck  with  admiration  of  the 
manly  beauty  of  Theseus,  and  the  vigor  and  address  which 
he  showed  in  the  combat,  overcoming  all  that  encountered 
with  him.  Minos,  too,  being  extremely  pleased  with  him, 
especially  because  he  had  overthrown  and  disgraced  Taurus, 
voluntarily  gave  up  the  young  captives  to  Theseus,  and 
remitted  the  tribute  to  the  Athenians.  Clidemus  gives  an 
account  peculiar  to  himself,  very  ambitiously,  and  beginning 
a great  way  back  ; That  it  was  a decree  consented  to  by  all 
Greece,  that  no  vessel  from  any  place,  containing  above  five 
persons,  should  be  permitted  to  sail,  Jason  only  excepted,  who 
was  made  captain  of  the  great  ship  Argo,  to  sail  about  and 
scour  the  sea  of  pirates.  But  Daedalus  having  escaped  from 
Crete,  and  flying  by  sea  to  Athens,  Minos,  contrary  to  this 
decree,  pursued  him  with  his  ships  of  war,  was  forced  by  a 
storm  upon  Sicily,  and  there  ended  his  life.  After  his 
decease,  Deucalion,  his  son,  desiring  a quarrel  with  the  Athe- 
nians, sent  to  them,  demanding  that  they  should  deliver  up 
Daedalus  to  him,  threatening  upon  their  refusal,  to  put  to 
death  all  the  young  Athenians  whom  his  father  had  received 
as  hostages  from  the  city.  To  this  angry  message  Theseus 
returned  a very  gentle  answer,  excusing  himself  that  he  could 
not  deliver  up  Daedalus,  who  was  nearly  related  to  him,  being 
his  cousin-german,  his  mother  being  Merope,  the  daughter  of 
Erechtheus.  In  the  mean  wliile  he  secretly  prepared  a navy, 
part  of  it  at  home  near  the  village  of  the  Thymoetadae,  a 
place  of  no  resort,  and  far  from  any  common  roads,  the  other 
part  by  his  grandfather  Pittheus’s  means  at  Troezen,  that  so 


THESEUS. 


19 


his  design  might  be  carried  on  with  the  greatest  secresy.  As 
soon  as  ever  his  fleet  was  in  readiness,  he  set  sail,  having 
with  him  Daedalus  and  other  exiles  from  Crete  for  liis  guides  ; 
and  n;)ne  of  the  Cretans  having  any  knowledge  of  his  com- 
ing, but  imagining  when  they  saw  his  fleet  that  they  were 
friends  and  vessels  of  their  own,  he  soon  made  himself  master 
of  the  port,  and  immediately  making  a descent,  reached 
Gncssus  before  any  notice  of  his  coming,  and,  in  a battle 
before  the  gates  of  the  labyrinth,  put  Deucalion  and  all  his 
guards  to  the  sword.  The  government  by  this  means  falling 
to  Ariadne,  he  made  a league  with  her,  and  received  the  cap- 
tives of  her,  and  ratified  a perpetual  friendship  between  the 
Athenians  and  the  Cretans,  whom  he  engaged  under  an  oath 
never  again  to  commence  any  war  with  Athens. 

There  are  yet  many  other  traditions  about  these  things, 
and  as  many  concerning  Ariadne,  all  inconsistent  with  each 
other.  Some  relate  that  she  hung  herself,  being  deserted  by 
Theseus.  Others  that  she  was  carried  away  by  his  sailors  to 
the  isle  of  Naxos,  and  married  to  GEnarus,  priest  of  Bacchus  j 
and  that  Theseus  left  her  because  he  fell  in  love  with  an- 
other. 

For  Angle's  love  yas  burning  in  his  breast ; 

a verse  which  Hereas,  the  Megarian,  says  was  formerly  in  the 
poet  Hesiod’s  works,  but  put  out  by  Pisistratus,  in  like  man- 
ner as  he  added  in  Homer’s  Raising  of  the  Dead,  to  gratify 
the  Athenians,  the  line 

Theseus,  Pirithous,  mighty  son  of  gods. 

Others  say  Ariadne  had  sons  also  by  Theseus,  CEnopion  and 
Staphylus  ; and  among  these  is  the  poet  Ion  of  Chios,  who 
writes  of  his  own  native  city 

Which  once  fEnopion,  son  of  Tlicseus  built. 

But  the  more  famous  of  the  legendary'  stories  everybody  (as  I 
may  say)  has  in  his  mouth.  In  Pteon,  however,  the  Ama- 
Ihusian,  there  is  a story  given,  differing  from  the  rest.  For 
he  writes'  that  Theseus,  being  driven  by  a storm  upon  the  is!e 
of  Cyprus,  and  having  aboard  with  him  Ariadne,  big  with 
child,  and  extremely  discomposed  with  the  rolling  of  the  sea, 
set  her  on  shore,  and  left  her  there  alone,  to  return  himself  and 
help  the  ship,  when,  on  a sudden,  a violent  wind  carried  him 
again  out  to  sea.  That  the  women  of  the  island  received  Ari- 
adne very  kindly,  and  did  all  they  could  to  console  and  alleviate 
her  distress  at  being  left  behind.  That  they  counterfeited  kind 


20 


THESEUS. 


letters,  and  delivered  them  to  her,  as  sent  from  Theseus,  and, 
when  she  fell  in  labor,  were  diligent  in  performing  to  her 
every  needful  service  ; but  that*she  died  before  she  could  be 
delivered,  and  was  honorably  interred.  That  soon  after 
Theseus  returned,  and  was  greatly  afflicted  for  her  loss,  and 
at  his  departure  left  a sum  of  money  among  the  people  of  the 
island,  ordering  them  to  do  sacrifice  to  Ariadne  ; and  caused 
two  little  images  to  be  made  and  dedicated  to  her,  one  of 
silver  and  the  other  of  brass.  Moreover,  that  on  the  second 
day  of  Gorpiaeus,  which  is  sacred  to  Ariadne,  they  have  this 
ceremony  among  their  sacrifices,  to  have  a youth  lie  down  and 
with  his  voice  and  gesture  represent  the  pains  of  a woman  in 
travail ; and  that  the  Amathusians  call  the  grove  in  which 
they  show  her  tomb,  the  grove  of  Venus  Ariadne. 

Differing  yet  from  this  account,  some  of  the  Naxians  write 
that  there  were  two  Minoses  and  two  Ariadnes,  one  of  whom, 
they  say,  was  married  to  Bacchus,  in  the  isle  of  Naxos,  and 
bore  the  children  Staphylus  and  his  brother ; but  that  the 
other,  of  a later  age,  was  carried  off  by  Theseus,  and,  being 
afterwards  deserted  by  him,  retired  to  Naxos,  with  her  nurse 
Corcyna,  whose  grave  they  yet  show.  That  this  Ariadne  also 
died  there,  and  was  worshipped  by  the  island,  but  in  a differ- 
ent manner  from  the  former ; for  her  day  is  celebrated  with 
general  joy  and  revelling,  but  all  the  sacrifices  performed  to 
the  latter  are  attended  with  mourning  and  gloom. 

Now  Theseus,  in  his  return  from  Crete,  put  in  at  Delos, 
and  having  sacrificed  to  the  god  of  the  island,  dedicated  to 
the  temple  the  image  of  Venus  which  Ariadne  had  given  him, 
and  danced  with  the  young  Athenians  a dance  that,  in  memory 
of  him,  they  say  is  still  preserved  among  the  inhabitants  of 
Delos,  consisting  in  certain  measured  turnings  and  returnings, 
imitative  of  the  windings  and  twistings  of  the  labyrinth.  And 
this  dance,  as  Dicaearchus  writes,  is  called  among  the  Delians, 
the  Crane.  This  he  danced  around  the  Ceratonian  Altar,  so 
caLed  from  its  consistyig  of  horns  taken  from  the  left  side  of 
the  head.  They  say  also  that  he  instituted  games  in.  Delos, 
where  he  was  the  first  that  began  the  custom  of  giving  a palm 
to  the  victors. 

When  they  were  come  near  the  coast  of  Attica,  so  great 
was  the  joy  for  the  happy  success  of  their  voyage,  that 
neither  Theseus  himself  nor  the  pilot  remembered  to  hang 
out  the  sail  which  should  have  been  the  token  of  their  safety 
to  yEgeus,  who,  in  despair  at  the  sight,  threw  himself  head' 
long  from  a rock,  and  perished  in  the  sea.  But  I'lieseus 


THESEUS. 


21 


being  arrived  at  the  port  of  Phalerum,  paid  there  the  sacri- 
fices which  he  had  vowed  to  the  gods  at  his  setting  out  lo  sea, 
and  sent  a herald  to  the  city  to  carry  the  news  of  his  safe  re- 
turn. At  his  entrance,  the  herald  found  the  people  for  the 
most  part  full  of  grief  for  the  loss  of  their  king ; others.,  as 
may  well  be  believed,  as  full  of  joy  for  the  tidings  that  he 
brought,  and  eager  to  welcome  him  and  crown  him  with  gar- 
lands for  his  good  news,  which  he  indeed  accepted  of,  l>ut 
hung  them  upon  his  herald's  staff ; and  thus  returning  to  the 
seaside  before  Theseus  had  finished  his  libation  to  the  gods, 
he  stayed  apart  for  fear  of  disturbing  the  holy  rites  ; but,  as 
socn  as  the  libation  was  ended,  went  up  and  related  the  king's 
death,  upon  the  hearing  of  which,  with  great  lamentations  and 
a confused  tumult  of  grief,  they  ran  with  all  haste  to  the  city. 
And  from  hence,  they  say,  it  comes  that  at  this  day,  in  the  feast 
of  Oschophoria,  the  herald  is  not  crowned,  but  his  staff,  and  all 
who  are  present  at  the  libation  cry  out  eleleu^  ioii^  iou,  the  first 
of  which  confused  sounds  is  commonly  used  by  men  in  haste, 
or  at  a triumph,  the  other  is  proper  to  people  in  consternation 
or  disorder  of  mind. 

Theseus,  af.er  the  funeral  of  his  father,  paid  his  vows  to 
Apollo  the  seventh  day  of  Pyanepsion ; for  on  that  day  the 
youth  that  returned  with  him  safe  from  Crete  made  their 
entry  into  the  city.  They  say,  also,  that  the  custom  of  boil- 
ing pulse  at  this  feast  is  derived  from  hence  ; because  the 
young  men  that  escaped  put  all  that  was  left  of  their  provision 
together,  and,  boiling  it  in  one  common  pot,  feasted  themselves 
with  it,  and  ate  it  all  up  together.  Hence,  also,  they  carry  in 
procession  an  olive  branch  bound  about  with  v.ool  (such  as 
they  then  made  use  of  in  their  supplications),  which  they  call 
Eiresione,  crowned  with  all  sorts  of  fruits,  to  signify  that 
scarcity  and  barrenness  was  ceased,  singing  in  their  pioces- 
sion  this  song  : — 

Eiresione  bring  figs,  and  Eiresione  bring  loaves  ; 

JJring  us  honey  in  pints,  and  oil  to  rub  on  our  bodies, 

And  a strong  flagon  of  wine,  for  all  to  go  mellow  to  bed  cn. 

Altliough  some  hold  opinion  that  this  ceremony  is  retained  in 
memory  of  the  Heraclidse,  who  were  thus  entertained  and 
brought  up  by  the  Athenians.  But  most  are  of  the  opinion 
which  we  have  given  above. 

The  ship  wherein  Theseus  and  the  youth  of  Athens 
returned  had  thirty  oars,  and  was  preserved  by  the  Athenians 
down  even  to  the  time  of  Demetrius  Phalercus,  for  they  took 


22 


THESEUS. 


away  the  old  planks  as  they  decayed,  putting  in  new  and 
stronger  timber  in  their  place,  insomuch  that  this  ship  became 
a standing  example  among  the  philosophers,  for  the  logical 
question  of  things  that  grow  ; one  side  holding  that  the  ship 
remained  the  same,  and  the  other  contending  that  it  was  not 
the  same. 

The  feast  called  Oschophoria,  or  the  feast  of  boughs,  which 
to  this  day  the  Athenians  celebrate,  was  then  first  instituted  by 
Theseus.  For  he  took  not  with  him  the  full  number  of  virgins 
which  by  lot  were  to  be  carried  a’way,  but  selected  two  youths 
of  his  acquaintance,  of  fair  and  womanish  faces,  but  of  a 
manly  and  forward  spirit,  and  having,  by  frequent  baths,  and 
avoiding  the  heat  and  scorching  of  the  sun,  with  a constant 
use  of  all  the  ointments  and  washes  and  dresses  that  serve  to 
the  adorning  of  the  head  or  smoothing  the  skin  or  improving 
the  complexion,  in  a manner  changed  them  from  what  they 
were  before,  and  having  taught  them  farther  to  counterfeit  the 
very  voice  and  carriage  and  gait  of  virgins  so  that  there  could 
not  be  the  least  difference  perceived,  he,  undiscovered  by  any, 
put  them  into  the  number  of  the  Athenian  maids  designed  for 
Crete.  At  his  return,  he  and  these  two  youths  led  up  a 
solemn  procession,  in  the  same  habit  that  is  now  worn  by 
those  who  carry  the  vine-branches.  These  branches  they 
carry  in  honor  of  Bacchus  and  Ariadne,  for  the  sake  of  their 
story  before  related  ; or  rather  because  they  happened  to  re- 
turn in  autumn,  the  time  of  gathering  the  grapes.  The  women, 
whom  they  call  Deipnopherae,  or  supper-carriers,  are  taken  into 
these  ceremonies,  and  assist  at  the  sacrifice,  in  remembrance 
and  imitation  of  the  mothers  of  the  young  men  and  virgins 
upon  whom  the  lot  fell,  for  thus  they  ran  about  bringing 
bread  and  meat  to  their  children  ; and  because  the  women 
then  told  their  sons  and  daughters  many  tales  and  stories, 
to  comfort  and  encourage  them  under  the  danger  they  were 
going  upon,  it  has  still  continued  a custom  that  at  this  feast 
old  fables  and  tales  should  be  told.  For  these  particularities 
Ke  are  indebted  to  the  history  of  Demon.  There  was  then  a 
place  chosen  out,  and  a temple  erected  in  it  to  Theseus,  and 
those  families  out  of  whom  the  tribute  of  the  youth  was 
gathered  were  appointed  to  pay  a tax  to  the  temple  for  sacri- 
fices to  him.  And  the  house  of  the  Phytalidae  had  the 
overseeing  of  these  sacrihces,  Theseus  doing  them  that  honor 
in  recompense  of  their  former  hospitality. 

Now,  after  the  death  of  his  father  ^geus,  forming  in  nis 
mind  a great  and  wonderful  design,  he  gathered  together  all 


THESEUS. 


23 


the  inhabitants  of  Attica  into  one  town,  and  made  them  one 
people  of  one  city,  whereas  before  they  lived  dispersed,  ana 
were  not  easy  to  assemble  upon  any  affair  for  the  common  in- 
terest. Nay,  differences  and  even  wars  often  occurred 
between  them,  which  he  by  his  persuasions  appeased,  going 
from  township  to  township,  and  from  tribe  to  tribe.  And 
those  of  a more  private  and  mean  condition  readily  embracing 
such  good  advice,  to  those  of  greater  power  he  promised  a 
commonwealth  without  monarchy,  a democracy,  or  people^s 
government,  in  which  he  should  only  be  continued  as  their 
commander  in  war  and  the  protector  of  their  laws,  all  things 
else  being  equally  distributed  among  them  ; — and  by  this 
means  brought  a part  of  them  over  to  his  proposal.  The  rest, 
fearing  his  power,  which  was  already  grown  very  formidable, 
and  knowing  his  courage  and  resolution,  chose  rather  to  be 
persuaded  than  forced  into  a compliance.  He  then  dissolved 
all  the  distinct  state-houses,  council  halls,  and  magistracies, 
and  built  one  common  state-house  and  council  hall  on  the 
site  of  the  present  upper  town,  and  gave  the  name  of  Athens 
to  the  whole  state,  ordaining  a common  feast  and  sacrifice, 
which  he  called  Panathencea,  or  the  sacrifice  of  all  the  united 
Athenians.  He  instituted  also  another  sacrifice  called  Me- 
tcecia,  or  Feast  of  Migration,  which  is  yet  celebrated  on  the 
sixteenth  day  of  Hecatombaeon.  Then,  as  he  had  promised, 
he  laid  down  his  regal  power  and  proceeded  to  order  a com- 
monwealth, entering  upon  this  great  work  not  without  advice 
from  the  gods.  For  having  sent  to  consult  the  oracle  of 
Delphi  concerning  the  fortune  of  his  new  government  and 
city,  he  received  this  answer : — 

Son  of  the  Pitthean  maid, 

To  your  town  the  terms  and  fates, 

My  father  gives  of  many  states, 
i^e  not  anxious  nor  afraid ; 

The  bladder  will  not  fail  to  swim 
On  the  waves  that  compass  him. 

Which  oracle,  they  say,  one  of  the  sybils  long  after  did  in  a 
manner  lepeat  to  the  Athenians,  in  this  verse  : — 

The  bladder  may  be  dipt,  but  not  be  drowned. 

Farther  yet  designing  to  enlarge  his  city,  he  invited  all 
strangers  to  come  and  enjoy  equal  privileges  with  the  natives, 
and  it  is  said  that  the  common  form,  hither^  all  ys 

was  the  words  that  Theseus  proclaimed  when  he  thus 
set  up  a commonwealth,  in  a manner,  for  all  nations.  Yet  he 


24 


THESEUS, 


did  not  suffer  his  state,  by  the  promiscuous  multitude  that 
flowed  in,  to  be  turned  into  confusion  and  be  left  without 
any  order  or  degree,  but  was  the  first  that  divided  the  Com 
monwealth  into  three  distinct  ranks,  the  noblemen,  the  hus- 
bandmen, and  artificers.  To  the  nobility  he  committed  the 
care  of  religion,  the  choice  of  magistrates,  the  teaching  and 
dispensing  of  the  laws,  and  interpretation  and  direction  in  all 
sacred  matters  ; the  whole  city  being,  as  it  were,  reduced  to 
an  exact  equality,  the  nobles  excelling  the  rest  in  honor,  the 
husbandmen  in  profit,  and  the  artificers  in  number.  And 
that  Theseus  was  the  first,  who,  as  Aristotle  says,  out  of  an 
inclination  to  popular  government,  parted  with  the  regal 
power,  Homer  also  seems  to  testify,  in  his  catalogue  of  the 
ships,  where  he  gives  the  name  of  People  to  the  Athenians 
only. 

He  also  coined  money,  and  stamped  it  with  the  image  of 
an  ox,  either  in  memory  of  the  Marathonian  bull,  or  of 
Taurus,  whom  he  vanquished,  or  else  to  put  his  people  in 
mind  to  follow  husbandry ; and  from  this  coin  came  the 
expression  so  frequent  among  the  Greeks,  of  a thing  being 
worth  ten  or  a hundred  oxen.  After  this  he  joined  Megara 
to  Attica,  and  erected  that  famous  pillar  on  the  Isthmus, 
which  bears  an  inscription  of  two  lines,  showing  the  bounds 
of  the  two  countries  that  meet  there.  On  the  east  side  the 
inscription  is, — 

Peloponnesus  there,  Ionia  here, 
and  on  the  west  side, — 

Peloponnesus  here,  Ionia  tneiC. 

He  also  instituted  the  games,  in  emulation  of  Hercules,  being 
ambitious  that  as  the  Greeks,  by  that  hero’s  appointment, 
celebrated  the  Olympian  games  to  the  honor  of  Jupiter,  so  by 
his  institution,  they  should  celebrate  the  Isthmian  to  the  honor 
of  Neptune.  For  those  that  were  there  before  observed,  dedi- 
cated to  Melicerta,  were  performed  privately  in  the  night,  and 
had  the  form  rather  of  a religions  rite  than  of  an  open  spectacle 
or  public  feast.  There  are  some  who  say  that  the  Isthmian 
games  were  first  instituted  in  inemory  of  Sciron,  Theseus  thus 
making  expiation  for  his  death,  upon  account  of  the  nearness 
of  kindred  between  them,  Sciron  being  the  son  of  Canethus 
and  Heniocha,  the  daughter  of  Pittheus  ; though  others  write 
that  Sinnis,  not  Sciron,  was  their  son,  and  that  to  his  honor, 
and  not  to  the  otlier’s,  these  games  were  ordained  by  Theseus 


THESEUS. 


2.S 

At  the  same  ’me  he  made  an  agreement  with  the  Corinthians, 
that  they  should  alk)w  those  that  came  from  Athens  to  the 
celebration  of  the  Isthmian  games  as  much  space  of  honor 
before  the  rest  to  behold  the  spectacle  in,  as  the  sail  of  the 
ship  that  brought  them  thither,  stretched  to  its  full  extent, 
could  cover ; so  Hellanicus  and  Andro  of  Halicarnassus  have 
established. 

Concerning  his  voyage  into  the  Euxine  Sea,  Philochorus 
and  some  others  write  that  he  made  it  with  Hercules,  offering 
him  his  service  in  the  war  against  the  Amazons,  and  had 
Ant: ope  given  him  for  the  reward  of  his  valor  ; but  the  greater 
number,  of  whom  are  Pherecydes,  Hellanicus,  and  Herodorus.. 
writes  that  he  made  this  voyage  many  years  after  Hercules, 
with  a navy  under  his  own  command,  and  took  the  Amazon 
prisoner — the  more  probable  story,  for  we  do  not  read  that 
any  other,  of  all  those  that  accompanied  him  in  this  action, 
took  any  Amazon  prisoner.  Bion  adds,  that,  to  take  her,  he 
had  to  use  deceit  and  fly  away ; for  the  Amazons,  he  says, 
being  naturally  lovers  of  men,  were  so  far  from  avoiding 
Theseus  when  he  touched  upon  their  coasts,  that  they  sent 
him  presents  to  his  ship ; but  he,  having  invited  Antiope,  who 
brought  them,  to  come  aboard,  immediately  set  sail  and  car- 
ried her  away.  An  author  named  Menecrates,  that  wrote  the 
History  of  Nicae  in  Bithynia,  adds,  that  Theseus,  having  An- 
tiope aboard  his  vessel,  cruised  for  some  time  about  those 
coasts,  and  that  there  were  in  the  same  ship  three  young  men 
of  Athens,  that  accompanied  him  in  this  voyage,  all  brothers, 
whose  names  were  Euneos,  Thoas,  and  Soloon.  The  last  of 
these  fell  desperately  in  love  with  Antiope,  and,  escaping  the 
notice  of  the  rest,  revealed  the  secret  only  to  one  of  his  most 
intimate  acquaintances,  and  employed  him  to  disclose  his 
passion  to  Antiope,  she  rejected  his  pretences  with  a very 
positive  denial,  yet  treated  the  matter  with  much  gentleness 
and  discretion,  and  made  no  complaint  to  Theseus  of  any  thing 
that  had  happened  ; but  Soloon,  the  thing  being  desperate, 
leaped  into  a river  near  the  seaside  and  drowned  himself.  As 
soon  as  Theseus  was  acquainted  with  his  death,  and  his  un- 
happy love  that  was  the  cause  of  it,  he  was  extremely  dis- 
tressed, and,  in  the  height  of  his  grief,  an  oracle  which  he  had 
formerly  received  at  Delphi  came  into  his  mind  ; for  he  had 
been  commanded  by  the  priestess  of  Apollo  Pythius,  that 
wherever  in  a strange  land  he  was  most  sorrowful  and  under 
the  greatest  affliction,  he  should  build  a city  there,  and  leave 
some  of  his  followers  to  be  governors  of  the  place.  For  this 


26 


THESEUS. 


cause  he  there  founded  a city,  which  he  called,  fiom  the  name 
of  Apollo,  Pythopolis,  and,  in  honor  of  the  unfortunate  youth, 
he  named  the  river  that  runs  by  it  Soloon,  and  left  the  two 
surviving  brothers  intrusted  with  the  care  of  the  government 
and  laws,  joining  with  them  Hermus,  one  of  the  nobility  of 
Athens,  from  whom  a place  in  the  city  is  called  the  House  of 
Hermus ; though  by  an  error  in  the  accent  it  has  been  taken 
for  the  House  of  Hermes,  or  Mercury,  and  the  honor  that 
was  designed  to  the  hero,  transferred  to  the  god. 

'^I'his  was  the  origin  and  cause  of  the  Amazonian  invasion 
of  Attica,  which  would  seem  to  have  been  no  slight  or  woman- 
ish enterprise.  For  it  is  impossible  that  they  should  have 
placed  their  camp  in  the  very  city,  and  joined  battle  close  by 
the  Pnyx  and  the  hill  called  Museum,  unless,  having  first 
conquered  the  country  round  about,  they  had  thus  with  impu- 
nity advanced  to  the  city.  That  they  made  so  long  a journey 
by  land,  and  passed  the  Cimmerian  Bosphorus,  when  frozen, 
as  Hellanicus  writes,  is  difficult  to  be  believed.  That  they 
encamped  all  but  in  the  city  is  certain,  and  may  be  sufficiently 
confirmed  by  the  names  that  the  places  hereabout  yet  retain, 
and  the  graves  and  monuments  of  those  that  fell  in  the  battle. 
Both  armies  being  in  sight,  there  was  a long  pause  and  doubt 
on  each  side  which  should  give  the  first  onset ; at  last  Theseus, 
having  sacrificed  to  Fear,  in  obedience  to  the  command  of 
an  oracle  he  had  received,  gave  them  battle  ; and  this  happen- 
ed in  the  month  of  Boedromion,  in  which  to  this  very  day  the 
Athenians  celebrate  the  Feast  Boedromia.  Clidemus,  desirous 
to  be  very  circumstantial,  writes  that  the  left  wing  of  the  Ama- 
zons moved  towards  the  place  which  is  yet  called  Amazonium 
and  the  right  towards  the  Pnyx,  near  Chrysa,  that  with  this 
wing  the  Athenians,  issuing  from  behind  the  Museum,  en- 
gaged, and  that  the  graves  of  those  that  were  slain  are  to  be 
seen  in  the  street  that  leads  to  the  gate  called  the  Piraic,  by 
the  chapel  of  the  hero  Chalcodon  ; and  that  here  the  Athenians 
were  routed,  and  gave  way  before  the  women,  as  far  as  to  the 
temple  of  the  Furies,  but,  fresh  supplies  coming  in  from  the 
Palladium,  Ardettus,  and  the  Lyceum,  they  charged  their  right 
wing,  and  beat  them  back  into  their  tents,  in  which  action  a, 
great  number  of  the  Amazons  were  slain.  At  length,  after 
four  months,  a peace  was  concluded  between  them  by  the 
mediation  of  Hippolyta  (for  so  this  historian  calls  the  Amazon 
whom  Theseus  married,  and  not  Antiope),  though  others 
write  that  she  was  slain  with  a dart  by  Molpadia,  while  fight- 
ing by  Theseus’s  side,  and  that  the  pillar  which  stands  by  the 


THESEUS. 


2? 


temple  of  Olympian  Earth  was  erected  to  her  honor.  Nor  is 
it  to  be  wondered  at,  that  in  events  of  such  antiquity,  history 
should  be  in  disorder.  For  indeed  we  are  also  told  that 
those  of  the  Amazons  that  were  wounded  were  privately  sent 
away  by  Antiope  to  Chalcis,  where  many  by  her  care  recov- 
ered, but  some  that  died  were  buried  there  in  the  place  that 
is  to  this  time  called  Amazonium.  That  this  war,  howeveq 
was  ended  by  a treaty  is  evident,  both  from  the  name  of  ihe 
place  adjoining  to  the  temple  of  Theseus,  called,  from  tiie 
solemn  oath  there  taken,  Horcomosium  ; and  also  from  the 
ancient  sacrifice  which  used  to  be  celebrated  to  the  Amazons 
the  day  before  the  Feast  of  Theseus.  The  Megarians  also 
show  a spot  in  their  city  where  some  Amazons  were  buried, 
on  the  way  from  the  market  to  a place  called  Rhus,  where 
the  building  in  the  shape  of  a lozenge  stands.  It  is  said, 
likewise,  that  others  of  them  were  slain  near  Chaeronea,  and 
buried  near  the  little  rivulet  formerly  called  Thermodon,  but 
now  Haemon,  of  which  an  account  is  given  in  the  life  of 
Demosthenes.  It  appears  further  that  the  passage  of  the 
Amazons  through  Thessaly  was  not  without  opposition,  for 
there  are  yet  shown  many  tombs  of  them  near  Scotussa  and 
Cynoscephalae. 

This  is  as  much  as  is  worth  telling  concerning  the  Amazons. 
For  the  account  which  the  author  of  the  poem  called  the 
Theseid  gives  of  this  rising  of  the  Amazons,  how  Antiope,  to 
revenge  herself  upon  Theseus  for  refusing  her  and  marrying 
Phaedra,  came  down  upon  the  city  with  her  train  of  Amazons, 
whom  Hercules  slew,  is  manifestly  nothing  else  but  fable  and 
invention.  It  is  true,  indeed,  that  Theseus  married  Phaedra, 
but  that  was  after  the  death  of  Antiope,  by  whom  he  had  a 
son  called  Hippolytus,  or,  as  Pindra  writes,  Demophon.  The 
calamities  which  befel  Phindra  and  this  son,  since  none  of  the 
historians  have  contradicted  the  tragic  poets  that  have  written 
of  them,  vve  must  suppose  happened  as  rejDresented  uniformly 
by  them. 

There  are  also  other  traditions  of  the  marriages  of  Theseus, 
neither  honorable  in  their  occasions  nor  fortunate  in  their 
events,  which  yet  were  never  represented  in  the  Greek  plays. 
For  he  is  said  to  have  carried  off  Anaxo,  a Trcezenian,  and, 
having  slain  Sinnis  and  Cercyon,  to  have  ravished  theii 
daughters  ; to  have  married  Periboea,  the  mother  of  Ajax,  and 
then  Phereboea,  and  then  lope,  the  daughter  of  Iphicles., 
And  further,  he  is  accused  of  deserting  Ariadne  (as  is  before 
related),  being  in  love  with  Higgle,  the  daughter  of  Panopeus, 


28 


THESEUS. 


neither  justly  nor  honorably  ; and  lastly,  of  the  rape  of  Helen, 
which  filled  all  Attica  with  war  and  blood,  and  was  in  the  end 
the  occasion  of  his  banishment  and  death,  as  will  presently 
be  related. 

Herodoriis  is  of  opinion,  that  though  there  were  many 
famous  expeditions  undertaken  by  the  bravest  men  of  his 
time,  yet  Theseus  never  joined  in  any  of  them,  once  oril}'  ex- 
cepted, with  the  Lapithae,  in  their  war  against  the  Centaurs  ; 
but  others  say  that  he  accompanied  Jason  to  Colchis  and 
Meleager  to  the  slaying  of  the  Calydonian  boar,  and  that 
hence  it  came  to  be  a proverb.  Not  without  Theseus  ; that  he 
himself,  however,  without  aid  of  any  one,  performed  many 
glorious  exploits,  and  that  from  him  began  the  saying,  He  is 
a second  Hercnles.  He  also  joined  Adrastus  in  recov^ering  the 
bodies  of  those  that  were  slain  before  Thebe.s,  but  not  as 
Euripides  in  his  tragedy  says,  by  force  of  arms,  but  by  per- 
suasion and  mutual  agreement  and  composition,  for  so  the 
greater  part  of  the  historians  write  ; Philochorus  adds  further 
that  this  was  the  first  treaty  that  ever  was  made  for  the  re- 
covering the  bodies  of  the  dead,  but  in  the  history  of  Hercules, 
it  is  shown  that  it  was  he  who  first  gave  leave  to  his  enemies 
to  carry  off  their  slain.  The  bury ing-pl aces  of  the  most  part 
are  yet  to  be  seen  in  the  village  called  Eleutherae  ; those  of 
the  commanders,  at  Eleusis,  where  Theseus  allotted  them  a 
place,  to  oblige  Adrastus.  The  story  of  Euripides  in  his 
Suppliants  is  disproved  by  ^schylus  in  his  Eleusinians,  where 
Theseus  himself  relates  the  facts  as  here  told. 

The  celebrated  friendship  between  Theseus  and  Pirithoiis 
is  said  to  have  been  thus  begun : the  fame  of  the  strength 
and  valor  of  Theseus  being  spread  through  Greece,  Pfiithoiis 
was  desirous  to  make  a trial  and  proof  of  it  himself,  and  to 
this  end  seized  a herd  of  oxen  which  belonged  to  Theseus, 
and  was  driving  them  away  from  Marathon,  and,  when  the 
news  was  brought  that  Theseus  pursued  him  in  arms,  he  did 
not  fly,  but  turned  back  and  went  to  meet  him.  But  as  soon 
they  had  viewed  one  another,  each  so  admired  the  gracefulness 
and  beauty,  and  was  seized  with  such  respect  for  the  courage 
of  the  other,  that  they  forgot  all  thoughts  of  fighting  ; and 
Pirithoiis,  first  stretching  out  his  hand  to  Theseus,  bade  him 
be  judge  in  this  case  himself,  and  promised  to  submit  willingly 
to  any  penalty  he  should  impose.  But  Theseus  not  only  for- 
gave him  all,  but  entreated  him  to  be  his  friend  and  brother 

arms  ; Aiid  they  ratified  their  friendship  by  oaths.  After 
this  Pirithoiis  married  Deidamia,  and  invited  Theseus  to  th^ 


THESEUb. 


29 


wedding,  entreating  him  to  come  and  see  his  country,  and 
make  acquaintance  with  the  Lapithae;  he  had  at  the  same  time 
invited  the  Centaurs  to  the  feast,  who  growing  hot  with  wine 
and  beginning  to  be  insolent  and  wild,  and  offering  violence 
to  the  women,  the  Lapithae  took  immediate  revenge  upon 
them,  slaying  many  of  them  upon  the  place,  and  afterwards, 
having  overcome  them  in  battle,  drove  the  whole  race  of  them 
out  of  their  countr}’’,  Theseus  all  along  taking  their  part  and 
fighting  on  their  side.  But  Herodorus  gives  a different  relation 
of  these  things ; that  Theseus  came  not  to  the  assistance  of 
the  Lapithae  till  the  war  was  already  begun  ; and  that  it  was  in 
this  journey  that  he  had  the  first  sight  of  Hercules,  having 
made  it  his  business  to  find  him  out  at  Trachis,  where  he  had 
chosen  to  rest  himself  after  all  his  wanderings  and  his  labors  ; 
and  that  this  interview  was  honorably  performed  on  each 
part,  with  extreme  respect,  and  good-will,  and  admiration  of 
each  other.  Yet  it  is  more  credible,  as  others  write,  that 
there  were,  before,  frequent  interviews  between  them,  and 
that  it  was  by  the  means  of  Theseus  that  Hercules  was 
initiated  at  Eleusis,  and  purified  before  initiation,  upon  ac- 
count of  several  rash  actions  of  his  former  life. 

Theseus  was  now  fifty  years  old,  as  Hellanicus  states,  when 
he  carried  off  Helen,  who  was  yet  too  young  to  be  married. 
Some  writers,  to  take  away  this  accusation  of  one  of  the 
greatest  crimes,  laid  to  his  charge,  say,  that  he  did  not  steal 
away  Helen  himself,  but  that  Idas  and  Lynceus  were  the 
ravishers,  who  brought  her  to  him,  and  committed  her  to  his 
charge,  and  that,  therefore,  he  refused  to  restore  her  at  the 
demand  of  Castor  and  Bollux;  or,  indeed,  they  say  her  own 
father,  Tyndarus,  had  sent  her  to  be  kept  by  him,  for  fear  of 
Enarophorus,  the  son  of  Hippocoon,  who  would  have  carried 
her  away  by  force  when  she  was  yet  a child.  But  the  most  prob- 
able account,  and  that  which  has  most  witnesses  on  its  side, 
is  this;  Theseus  and  Pirithoiis  went  both  together  to  Sparta, 
and,  having  seized  the  young  lady  as  she  was  dancing  in  the 
temple  Diana  Orthia,  fled  away  with  her.  There  were  presently 
men  sent  in  arms  to  pursue,  but  they  followed  no  further 
than  to  I'egea;  and  Theseus  and  Pirithoiis,  being  now  out  of 
danger,  having  passed  through  Peloponnesus,  made  an  agree- 
ment between  themselves,  that  he  to  whom  the  lot  should  fall 
should  have  Helen  to  his  wife,  but  should  be  obliged  to  assist 
in  procuring  another  for  his  friend.  The  lot  fell  upon  The 
seu3,  who  conveyed  her  to  Aphidnas,  not  being  yet  marriage^ 
able,  and  delivered  her  to  one  of  his  allies,  called  Aphidnus, 


30 


THESEUS. 


and,  having  sent  his  mother,  ^thra  after  to  take  care  of  her, 
desired  him  to  keep  them  so  secretly,  that  none  might  know 
where  they  were ; which  done,  to  return  the  same  service  to 
his  friend  Pirithoiis  he  accompanied  him  in  his  journey  to 
Epirus,  in  order  to  steal  away  the  king  of  the  Molossians’ 
daughter.  The  king,  his  own  name  being  Aidoneus,  or  Pluto, 
called  his  wife  Proserpina,  and  his  daughther  Cora,  and  a 
gieat  dog,  which  he  kept,  Cerberus,  with  whom  he  ordered 
all  that  came  as  suitors  to  his  daughter  to  fight,  and  promised 
her  to  him  that  should  overcome  the  beast.  But  having  been 
informed  that  the  design  of  Pirithoiis  and  his  companion 
was  not  to  court  his  daughter,  but  to  force  her  away,  he 
caused  them  both  to  be  seized,  and  threw  Pirithoiis  to  be  torn 
in  pieces  by  his  dog,  and  put  Theseus  into  prison,  and  kept 
him. 

About  this  time,  Menestheus,  the  son  of  Peteus,  grand- 
son of  Orneus,  and  great-grandson  to  Erechtheus,  the  first 
man  that  is  recorded  to  have  affected  popularity  and  ingrati- 
ated himself  with  the  multitude,  stirred  up  and  exasperated 
the  most  eminent  men  of  the  city,  who  had  long  borne  a secret 
grudge  to  Theseus,  conceiving  that  he  had  robbed  them  of 
their  several  little  kingdoms  and  lordships,  and  having  pent 
them  all  up  in  one  city,  was  using  them  as  his  subjects  and 
slaves.  He  put  also  the  meaner  people  into  commotion, 
telling  them,  that,  deluded  with  a mere  dream  of  liberty, 
though  indeed  they  were  deprived  of  both  of  that  and  of 
their  proper  homes  and  religious  usages,  instead  of  many 
good  and  gracious  kings  of  their  owm,  they  had  given  them- 
selves up  to  be  lorded  over  by  a new-comer  and  a stranger. 
Whilst  he  was  thus  busied  in  infecting  the  minds  of  the 
citizens,  the  \var  that  Castor  and  Pollux  brought  against 
Athens  came  very  opportunely  to  further  the  sedition  he  had 
been  promoting,  and  some  say  that  by  his  persuasions  was 
wholly  the  cause  of  their  invading  the  city.  At  their  first 
approach,  they  committed  no  acts  of  hostility,  but  peaceably 
demanded  their  sister  Helen;  but  the  Athenians  returning 
answer  that  they  neither  had  her  there  nor  knew  where  she 
was  disposed  of,  they  prepared  to  assault  the  city,  when 
Academus,  having  by  whatever  means,  found  it  out,  disclosed 
to  them  that  she  was  secretly  kept  at  Aphidnse.  For  which 
reason  he  was  both  highly  honored  during  his  life  by  Castor 
and  Pollux,  and  the  Lacedaemonians,  when  often  in  aftertimes 
they  made  incursions  into  Attica,  and  destroyed  all  the  coun- 
try round  about,  spared  the  Academy  for  the  sake  of  Acade 


THESEUS. 


31 


mus.  But  Dicrearchus  writes  that  there  were  two  Arcadians 
in  the  army  of  Castor  and  Pollux,  the  one  called  Echedemus, 
and  the  other  Marathus  ; from  the  first  that  which  is  now 
called  Academia  was  then  named  Echedemia,  and  the  village 
Marathon  had  its  name  from  the  other,  who,  to  fulfil  some 
oraclC;  voluntarily  offered  himself  to  be  made  a sacrifice  be- 
fore battle.  As  soon  as  they  were  arrived  at  Aphidnse,  they 
overcame  their  enemies  in  a set  battle,  and  then  assaulted  and 
took  the  town.  And  here,  they  say,  Alycus,  the  son  of  Sciroii, 
w’-as  slain,  of  the  party  of  the  Dioscuri  (Castor  and  Pollux), 
from  whorh  a place  in  Megara,  where  he  was  buried,  is  called 
Alycus  to  this  day.  And  Hereas  writes  that  it  was  Theseus 
himself  that  killed  him,  in  witness  of  w^hich  he  cites  these 
verses  concerning  Alycus, 

And  Alycus  upon  Aphidnae’s  plain, 

By  Theseus  in  the  cause  of  Helen  slain. 

Though  it  is  not  at  all  probable  that  Theseus  himself  was 
there  when  both  the  city  and  his  mother  were  taken. 

Aphidnae  being  won  by  Castor  and  Pollux,  and  the  city  of 
Athens  being  in  consternation,  Menestheus  persuaded  the 
people  to  open  their  gates,  and  receive  them  with  all  manner 
of  friendship,  for  they  were,  he  told  them,  at  enmity  with  none 
but  Theseus,  who  had  first  injured  them,  and  were  benefac- 
tors and  saviors  to  all  mankind  beside.  And  their  behavior 
gave  credit  to  those  promises ; for,  having  made  themselves 
absolute  masters  of  the  place,  they  demanded  no  more  than  to 
be  initiated,  since  they  were  as  nearly  related  to  the  city  as 
Hercules  was,  who  had  received,  the  same  honor.  This  their 
desire  they  easily  obtained,  and  w^ere  adopted  by  Aphidnus, 
as  Hercules  had  been  by  Pylius.  They  were  honored  also 
like  gods,  and  were  called  by  a new  name,  Anaces,  either  from 
the  cessation  of  the  war,  or  from  the  care  they  took  that  none 
should  suffer  any  injury,  though  there  wms  so  great  an  army 
within  the  walls  ; for  the  phrase  andkos  ckhein  is  used  of 
those  who  look  to  or  care  for  any  thing  ; kings  for  this  reason, 
perhaps,  are  called  a7iactes.  Others  say,  that  from  tne  ap 
pearance  of  their  star  in  the  heavens,  they  were  thus  called, 
for  in  the  Attic  dialect  this  name  comes  very  near  the  words 
rhat  signify  above. 

Some  say  that  ^thra,  Theseus^s  mother,  was  here  taken 
prisoner,  and  carried  to  Lacedaemon,  and  from  thence  went 
away  with  Helen  to  Troy,  alleging  this  verse  of  Homer,  to 
prove  that  she  waited  upon  Helen, 


32 


THESEUS. 


iEthra  of  Pittheus  born,  and  large-eyed  Clymene. 

Others  reject  this  verse  as  none  of  Homer’s,  as  they  do  like- 
wise the  whole  fable  of  Munychus,  who,  the  story  says,  was 
the  son  of  Demophon  and  Laodice,  born  secretly,  and  brought 
up  by  ^thra  at  Troy.  But  Ister,  in  the  thirteenth  book  of 
his  Attic  History,  gives  us  an  account  of  ^thra,  different  yet 
from  all  the  rest : that  Achilles  and  Patroclus  overcame  Paris 
in  Thessaly,  near  the  river  Sperciiius,  but  that  Hector  took 
and  plundered  the  city  of  the  Troezenians,  and  made  ^thra 
prisoner  there.  But  this  seems  a groundless  tale. 

Now  Hercules,  passing  by  the  Molossians,  was  entertained 
in  his  way  by  Aidoneus  the  king,  who,  in  conversation,  acci- 
dentally spoke  of  the  journey  of  Theseus  and  Pirithoiis  into  his 
country,  of  what  they  had  designed  to  do,  and  what  they  were 
forced  to  suffer.  Hercules  was  much  grieved  for  the  inglori- 
ous death  of  the  one  and  the  miserable  condition  of  the 
other.  As  for  Pirithoiis,  he  thought  it  useless  to  complain  ; 
but  begged  to  have  Theseus  released  for  his  sake,  and  obtained 
that  favor  from  the  king.  Theseus,  being  thus  set  at  liberty, 
returned  to  Athens,  where  his  friends  were  not  yet  wholly 
suppressed,  and  dedicated  to  Hercules  all  the  sacred  places 
which  the  city  had  set  apart  for  himself,  changing  their  names 
from  Thesea  to  Heraclea,  four  only  excepted,  as  Philocho- 
rus  writes.  And  wishing  immediately  to  resume  the  first 
place  in  the  commonwealth,  and  manage  the  state  as  before, 
he  soon  found  himself  involved  in  factions  and  troubles  ; 
those  who  long  had  hated  him  had  now  added  to  their 
hatred  contempt ; and  the  minds  of  the  people  were  so  gener- 
ally corrupted,  that,  instead  of  obeying  commands  with 
silence,  they  expected  to  be  flattered  into  their  duty.  He 
had  some  thoughts  to  have  reduced  them  by  force,  but  was 
overpowered  by  demagogues  and  factions.  And  at  last,  de- 
spairing of  any  good  success  of  his  affairs  in  Athens,  he  sent 
away  his  children  privately  to  Euboea,  commending  them  to 
the  care  of  Elephenor,  the  son  of  Chalcodoii ; and  he  himself 
having  solemnly  cursed  the  people  of  Athens  in  the  village 
of  Gargettus,  in  which  there  yet  remains  the  place  called  Ara- 
terion,  or  the  place  of  cursing,  sailed  to  Scyros,  where  he  had 
lands  left  him  by  his  father,  and  friendship,  as  he  thought,  with 
those  of  the  island.  Lycomedes  was  then  king  of  Scyros.  The- 
seus, therefore,  addressed  himself  to  him  and  desired  to  have 
his  lands  put  into  his  possession,  as  designing  to  settle  and  to 
dwell  there,  though  others  say  that  he  came  to  beg  his  assist- 


THESEUS. 


33 


ance  against  the  Athenians.  But  Lycomedes,  either  jealous 
of  the  glory  of  so  great  a man,  or  to  gratify  Menestheus, 
having  led  him  up  to  the  highest  cliff  of  the  island,  on  pre- 
tence of  showing  him  from  thence  the  lands  that  he  desired, 
threw  him  headlong  down  from  the  rock,  and  killed  him. 
Others  say  he  fell  down  of  himself  by  a slip  of  his  foot,  as  he 
was  walking  there,  according  to  his  custom,  after  supper.  At 
chat  time  there  was  no  notice  taken,  nor  were  any  concerned 
for  his  death,  but  Menestheus  quietly  possessed  the  kingdom 
of  Athens.  His  sons  were  brought  up  in  a private  condition; 
and  accompanied  Elephenor  to  the  Trojan  war,  but,  after  the 
decease  of  Menestheus  in  that  expedition,  returned  to  Athens, 
and  recovered  the  government.  But  in  succeeding  ages, 
besides  several  other  circumstances  that  moved  the  Athenians 
to  honor  Theseus  as  a demigod,  in  the  battle  which  was 
fought  at  Marathon  against  the  Medes,  many  of  the  soldiers 
believed  they  saw  an  apparition  of  Theseus  in  arms,  rushing 
on  at  the  head  of  them  against  the  barbarians.  And  after 
the  Median  war,  Phaedo  being  archon  of  Athens,  the  Athe- 
nians, consulting  the  oracle  at  Delphi,  were  commanded  to 
gather  together  the  bones  of  Theseus,  and,  laying  them  in 
some  honorable  place,  keep  them  as  sacred  in  the  city.  But 
it  was  very  difficult  to  recover  these  relics,  or  so  much  as  to 
^nd  out  the  place  where  they  lay,  on  account  of  the  inhospit- 
able and  savage  temper  of  the  barbarous  people  that  inhabit- 
ed the  island.  Nevertheless,  afterwards,  when  Cimon  took 
the  island  (as  is  related  in  his  life),  and  had  a great  ambition 
to  find  out  the  place  where  Theseus  was  buried,  he,  by  chance, 
spied  an  eagle  upon  a rising  ground  pecking  with  her  beak 
and  tearing  up  I he  earth  with  her  talons,  when  on  the  sudden 
it  came  into  his  mind,  as  it  were  by  some  divine  inspiration, 
to  dig  there,  and  search  for  the  bones  of  Theseus.  There 
were  found  in  that  place  a coffin  of  a man  of  more  than  ordi- 
nary size,  and  a brazen  spear-head,  and  a sword  lying  by  it, 
all  which  he  took  aboard  his  galley  and  brought  with  him  to 
Athens.  Upon  which  the  Athenians,  greatly  delighted,  went 
out  to  meet  and  receive  the  relics  with  splendid  processions 
and  sacrifices,  as  if  it  were  Theseus  himself  returning  alive  to 
the  city.  He  lies  interred  in  the  middle  of  the  city,  near  the 
present  gymnasium.  His  tomb  is  a sarctuary  and  refuge  for 
slaves,  and  all  those  of  mean  condition  that  fly  from  the  per- 
secution of  men  in  power,  in  memory  that  Theseus  while  he 
lived  was  an  assister  and  protector  of  the  distressed,  and 
never  refused  the  petitions  of  the  afflicted  that  fled  to  him. 

3 


34 


ROMULUS. 


TPie  chief  and  most  solemn  sacrifice  which  they  celebrate  to 
him  is  kept  on  the  eighth  day  of  Pyanepsion,  on  which  he  re- 
turned with  the  Athenian  young  men  from  Crete.  Besides 
which  they  sacrifice  to  him  on  the  eighth  day  of  every  month, 
either  because  he  returned  from  Troezen  the  eighth  day  of 
Hecatombaeon,  as  Diodorus  the  geographer  writes,  or  else 
thinking  that  number  to  be  proper  to  him,  because  he  vas  re- 
puted to  be  born  of  Neptune,  because  they  sacrifice  to  Nep- 
tune on  the  eighth  day  of  every  month.  The  number  eight 
being  the  first  cube  of  an  even  number,  and  the  double  of  the 
first  square,  seemed  to  be  an  emblem  of  the  steadfast  and  im- 
movable power  of  this  god,  who  from  thence  has  the  names 
of  Asphalius  and  Gaeiochus,  that  is,  the  establisher  and  stayei 
of  the  earth. 


ROMULUS. 

From  whom,  and  for  what  reason,  the  city  of  Rome,  a 
name  so  great  in  glory,  and  famous  in  the  mouths  of  all  men, 
was  so  first  called,  authors  do  not  agree.  Some  are  of  opinion 
that  the  Pelasgians,  wandering  over  the  greater  part  of  the 
habitable  world,  and  subduing  numerous  nations,  fixed  them- 
selves here,  and,  from  tlieir  own  great  strength  in  war,  called 
the  city  Rome.  Others,  that  at  the  taking  of  Troy,  some  few 
that  escaped  and  met  with  shipping,  put  to  sea,  and,  driven 
by  winds,  were  carried  upon  the  coasts  of  Tuscany,  and  came 
to  anchor  off  the  mouth  of  the  river  Tiber,  where  their  women, 
out  of  heart  and  weary  with  the  sea,  on  its  being  proposed 
by  one  of  the  highest  birth  and  best  understanding  amongst 
them,  whose  name  was  Roma,  burnt  the  ships.  With  which 
act  the  men  at  first  were  angry,  but  afterwards,  of  necessity, 
seating  themselves  near  Palatium,  where  things  in  a short 
while  succeeded  far  better  than  they  could  hope,  in  that  they 
found  the  country  very  good,  and  the  people  courteous,  they 
not  only  did  the  lady  Roma  other  honors,  but  added  also  this, 
of  calling  after  her  name  the  city  which  she  had  been  the 
occasion  of  their  founding.  From  this,  they  say,  has  come 
down  that  custom  at  Rome  for  women  to  salute  their  kinsmen 
and  husbands  with  kisses  ; because  these  women,  after  the>' 
had  burnt  the  ships,  made  use  of  such  endearments  when  en 
treating  and  pacifying  their  husbands. 


ROMULUS. 


35 


Gome  Rgain  say  that  Roma,  from  whom  this  city  was  sc 
called,  was  daughter  of  Italus  and  Leucaria  ; or,  by  another 
accoiinl,  of  Telaphiis,  Hercules's  son,  and  that  she  was  mar- 
ried to  H^neas,  or,  according  to  others  again,  to  Ascanius, 
/Eneas’s  son.  Some  tell  us  that  PvOmanus,  the  son  of  Ulysses 
and  Circe,  built  it ; some,  Romus,  the  son  of  Emathion, 
Uiomede,  having  sent  him  from  Troy  ; and  others,  Romus, 
king  of  the  Latins,  after  driving  out  the  Tyrrhenians,  who  had 
come  from  Thessaly  into  Lydia,  and  from  thence  into  Italy. 
Those  very  authors,  too,  who,  in  accordance  with  the  safest 
account,  make  Romulus  give  the  name  of  the  city,  yet  differ 
concerning  his  birth  and  family.  For  some  say,  he  was  son 
to  /Eneas  and  Dexithea,  daughter  of  Phorbas,  and  was,  with 
his  brother  Remus,  in  their  infancy,  carried  into  Italy,  and 
being  on  the  river  when  the  waters  came  down  in  a flood,  all 
the  vessels  were  cast  away  except  only  that  where  the  young 
children  were,  which  being  gently  landed  on  a level  bank  of 
the  river,  they  were  both  unexpectedly  saved,  and  from  them 
the  place  was  called  Rome.  Some  say,  Roma,  daughter  of 
the  Trojan  lady  above  mentioned,  was  married  to  Latinus, 
Telemachus’s  son,  and  became  mother  to  Romulus  ; others, 
that  Emilia,  daughter  of  ^neas  and  Lavinia,  had  him  by  the 
god  Mars ; and  others  give  you  mere  fables  of  his  origin. 
For  to  Tarchetius,  they  say,  king  of  Alba,  who  was  a most 
wicked  and  cruel  man,  there  appeared  in  his  own  house  a 
strange  vision,  a male  figure  that  rose  out  of  a hearth,  and 
stayed  there  for  many  days.  There  was  an  oracle  of  Tethys 
in  Tuscany  which  Tarchetius  consulted,  and  received  an  an- 
swer that  a virgin  should  give  herself  to  the  apparition,  and 
that  a son  should  be  born  of  her,  highly  renowned,  eminent 
for  valor,  good  fortune,  and  strength  of  body.  Tarchetius 
told  the  prophecy  to  one  of  his  own  daughters,  and  command- 
ed her  to  do  this  thing ; which  she  avoiding  as  an  indignity, 
sent  her  handmaid.  Tarchetius,  hearing  this,  in  great  anger 
imprisoned  them  both,  purposing  to  put  them  to  death  ; but 
being  deterred  from  murder  by  the  goddess  Vesta  in  a dream, 
enjoined  them  for  their  punishment  the  working  a web  of  cloth, 
in  their  chains  as  they  were,  which  when  they  finished,  they 
should  be  suffered  to  marry  ; but  whatever  they  worked  by 
day,  Tarchetius  commanded  others  to  unravel  in  the  night. 
In  the  mean  time,  the  waiting-woman  was  delivered  of  two 
boys,  whom  Tarchetius  gave  into  the  hands  of  one  Teratius, 
with  command  to  destroy  them  ; he,  however,  carried  and 
laid  them  by  the  river  side,  where  a wolf  came  and  continued 


36 


ROMULUS 


to  suckle  them,  while  birds  of  various  sorts  brought  little 
morsels  of  food,  which  they  put  into  their  mouths  ; till  a cow- 
herd, spying  them,  was  first  strangely  surprised,  but,  venturing 
to  draw  nearer,  took  the  children  lip  in  his  arms.  Thus  they 
were  saved,  and  when  they  grew  up,  set  upon  Tarchetius  and 
overcame  him.  This  one  Promathion  says,  who  compiled  a 
history  of  Italy. 

But  the  story  which  is  most  believed  and  has  the  greatest 
number  of  vouchers  was  first  published,  in  its  chief  particu* 
lars,  amongst  the  Greeks  by  Diodes  of  Peparethus,  whom 
Fabius  Pictor  also  follows  in  most  points.  Here  again  there 
are  variations,  but  in  general  outline  it  runs  thus : the  kings 
of  Alba  reigned  in  lineal  descent  from  ^neas,  and  the  suc- 
cession devolved  at  length  upon  two  brothers,  Numitor  and 
Amulius.  Amulius  proposed  to  divide  things  into  two  equal 
shares,  and  set  as  equivalent  to  the  kingdom  the  treasure  and 
gold  that  were  brought  from  Troy.  Numitor  chose  the  king- 
dom ; but  Amulius,  having  the  money,  and  being  able  to  do 
more  with  that  than  Numitor,  took  his  kingdom  from  him 
with  great  ease,  and,  fearing  lest  his  daughter  might  have 
children,  made  her  a Vestal,  bound  in  that  condition  forever 
to  live  a single  and  maiden  life.  This  lady  some  call  Ilia, 
others  Rhea,  and  others  Silvia;  however,  not  long  after,  she 
was,  contrary  to  the  established  laws  of  the  Vestals,  discover- 
ed to  be  with  child,  and  should  have  suffered  the  most  cruel 
punishment,  had  not  Antho,  the  king’s  daughter,  mediated  with 
her  father  for  her ; nevertheless,  she  was  confined,  and 
debarred  all  company,  that  she  might  not  be  delivered  with- 
out the  king’s  knowledge.  In  time  she  brought  forth  two 
boys,  of  more  than  human  size  and  beauty,  whom  Amulius, 
becoming  yet  more  alarmed,  commanded  a servant  to  take 
and  cast  away;  this  man  some  call  Faustulus,  others  say  Fau- 
stulus  was  the  man  who  brought  them  up.  He  put  the  chil- 
dren, however,  in  a small  trough,  and  went  towards  the  river 
with  a design  to  cast  them  in  ; but,  seeing  the  waters  much 
swollen  and  coming  violently  down,  was  afraid  to  go  nearer, 
and  dropping  the  children  near  the  bank,  went  away.  The 
river  overflowing,  the  flood  at  last  bore  up  the  trough,  and, 
gently  wafting  it,  landed  them  on  a smooth  piece  of  ground, 
which  they  now  called  Cermanus,  formerly  Germanus,  per- 
haps from  Germanic  which  signifies  brothers. 

Near  this  place  grew  a wild  fig-tree,  which  they  called 
Ruminalis,  either  from  Romulus  (as  it  is  vulgarly  thought), 
or  from  ruminating^  because  cattle  did  usually  in  the  heat  o/ 


ROMULUS. 


37 


the  day  seek  cover  under  it,  and  there  chew  the  cud  ; or, 
better, ^from  the  suckling  of  these  children  there,  for  the  an 
ciehts  called  the  dug  or  teat  of  any  creature  / and  there 
is  a tutelar  goddess  of  the  rearing  of  children  whom  they  still 
call  Rumilia,  in  sacrificing  to  whom  they  use  no  wine,  but 
make  libations  of  milk.  While  the  infants  lay  here,  history 
tells  us,  a she-wolf  nursed  them,  and  a woodpecker  constant- 
ly fed  and  watched  them  ; these  creatures  are  esteemed  holy 
to  the  god  A'lars  : the  woodpecker  the  Latins  still  especially 
worship  and  honor.  Which  things,  as  much  as  any,  gave 
credit  to  what  the  mother  of  the  children  said,  that  their 
father  was  the  god  Mars  ; though  some  say  that  it  was  a mis- 
take put  upon  her  by  Amulius,  who  himself  had  come  to  her 
dressed  up  in  armor. 

Others  think  that  the  first  rise  of  this  fable  came  from  the 
children’s  nurse,  through  the  ambiguity  of  her  name  ; for  the 
Latins  not  only  called  wolves  but  also  women  of  loose 

life  ; and  such  an  one  was  the  wife  of  Faustulus,  who  nurtured 
these  children,  Acca  Larentia  by  name.  To  her  the  Romans 
offer  sacrifices,  and  in  the  month  of  April  the  priest  of  Mars 
makes  libations  there  ; it  is  called  the  Larentian  Feast.  They 
honor  also  another  Larentia,  for  the  following  reason : the 
keeper  of  Hercules’s  temple  having,  it  seems,  little  else  to  do, 
proposed  to  his  deity  a game  at  dice,  laying  down  that,  if  he 
himself  won,  he  would  have  something  valuable  of  the  god  ; 
but  if  he  were  beaten,  he  would  spread  him  a noble  table, 
and  procure  him  a fair  lady’s  company.  Upon  these  terms, 
throwing  first  for  the  god  and  then  for  himself,  he  found  him- 
self beaten.  Wishing  to  pay  his  stakes  honorably,  and  hold- 
ing himself  bound  by  what  he  had  said,  he  both  provided  the 
deity  a good  supper,  and  giving  money  to  Larentia,  then  in 
her  beauty,  though  not  publicly  known,  gave  her  a feast  in 
the  temple,  where  he  had  also  laid  a bed,  and  after  supper 
locked  her  in,  as  if  the  god  were  really  to  come  to  her.  And 
indeed,  it  is  said,  the  deity  did  truly  visit  her,  and  comnanck 
ed  her  in  the  morning  to  walk  to  the  market-place,  and,  what- 
ever man  she  met  first,  to  salute  him,  and  make  him  her 
friend.  She  met  one  named  Tarrutius,  who  was  a man  ad* 
vanced  in  years,  fairly  rich,  without  children,  and  had  always 
lived  a single  life.  He  received  Larentia,  and  loved  her 
well,  and  at  his  death  left  her  sole  heir  of  all  his  large  and 
fair  possessions,  most  of  which  she,  in  her  last  will  and  tes- 
tament, bequeathed  to  the  people.  It  was  reported  of  her, 
being  now  celebrated  and  esleemed  the  mistress  of  a god» 


38 


ROMULUS. 


that  she  suddenly  disappeared  near  the  place  where  the  firsi 
Larentia  lay  buried  ; the  spot  is  at  this  day  called  Velabrum, 
because,  the  river  frequently  overflowing,  they  went  over  in 
ferry-boats  somewhere  hereabouts  to  the  forum,  the  Latin  word 
for  ferrying  being  velatura.  Others  derive  the  name  from 
velum^  a sail  ; because  the  exhibitors  of  public  shows  used  to 
hang  the  road  that  leads  from  the  forum  to  the  Circus  Maxi- 
mus with  sails,  beginning  at  this  spot.  Upon  these  accounts 
the  second  Larentia  is  honored  at  Home. 

Meantime  Faustulus,  Amulius’s  swineherd,  brought  up 
the  children  without  any  man^s  knowledge  ; or,  as  those  say 
who  wish  to  keep  closer  to  probabilities,  with  the  knowledge 
and  secret  assistance  of  Numitor  ; for  it  is  said,  they  went  to 
school  at  Gabii,  and  were  well  instructed  in  letters,  and  other 
accomplishments  befitting  their  birth.  And  they  were  called 
Romulus  and  Remus,  (from  riima^  the  dug,)  as  we  had  before, 
because  they  were  found  sucking  the  wolf.  In  their  very  in- 
fancy, the  size  and  beauty  of  their  bodies  intimated  their  nat- 
ural superiority ; and  when  they  grew  up,  they  both  proved 
brave  and  manly,  attempting  all  enterprises  that  seemed  haz- 
ardous, and  showing  in  them  a courage  altogether  undaunted. 
But  Romulus  seemed  rather  to  act  by  counsel,  and  to  show 
the  sagacity  of  a statesmen,  and  in  all  his  dealings  with  their 
neighbors,  whether  relating  to  feeding  of  flocks  or  to  hunting, 
gave  the  idea  of  being  born  rather  to  rule  than  to  obey.  To 
their  comrades  and  inferiors  they  were  therefore  dear  ; but 
the  king’s  servants,  his  bailiffs  and  overseers,  as  being  in 
nothing  better  men  than  themselves,  they  despised  and 
slighted,  nor  were  the  least  concerned  at  their  commands  and 
menaces.  They  used  honest  pastimes  and  liberal  studies,  not 
esteeming  sloth  and  idleness  honest  and  liberal,  but  rather 
such  exercises  as  hunting  and  running,  repelling  robbers, 
taking  of  thieves,  and  delivering  the  wronged  and  oppressed 
from  injury.  For  doing  such  things  they  became  famous. 

A quarrel  occurring  betwixt  Numitor’s  and  Amulius’s  cow- 
herds, the  latter,  not  enduring  the  driving  away  of  their  cattle 
by  the  others,  fell  upon  them  and  put  them  to  flight,  and  res- 
cued the  greatest  part  of  the  prey.  At  which  Numitor  being 
highly  incensed,  they  little  regarded  it,  but  collected  and  took 
into  their  company  a number  of  needy  men  and  runaway 
slaves, — acts  which  looked  like  the  first  stages  of  rebellion. 
It  so  happened,  that  when  Romulus  was  attending  a sacrifice, 
being  fond  of  sacred  rites  and  divination,  Numitor’s  herds- 
men, meeting  with  Remus  on  a journey  with  few  companions, 


ROMULUS. 


39 


fer  upon  him,  and  after  some  %hting,  look  him  ptlsoneT; 
carried  hm  before  Numitor,  and  there  accused  him.  Numi- 
tor  would  not  punish  him  himself,  fearing  his  brother’s  anger, 
but  went  to  Amulius,  and  desired  justice,  as  he  was  Amulius’s 
brother  and  was  affronted  by  Amulius’s  servants.  The  men 
of  Alba  likewise  resenting  the  thing,  and  thinking  he  had 
been  dishonorably  used,  Amulius  was  induced  to  deliver 
Remus  up  into  Numitor’s  hands,  to  use  him  as  he  thought  fit. 
He  therefore  took  and  carried  him  home,  and,  being  struck 
with  admiration  of  the  youth’s  person,  in  stature  and  strength 
of  body  exceeding  all  men,  and  perceiving  in  his  very  coun- 
tenance the  courage  and  force  of  his  mind,  which  stood  un- 
subdued and  unmoved  by  his  present  circumstances,  and 
hearing  further  that  all  the  enterprises  and  actions  of  his  life 
were  answerable  to  what  he  saw  of  him,  but  chiefly,  as  it 
seemed,  a divine  influence  aiding  and  directing  the  first  steps 
that  were  to  lead  to  great  results,  out  of  the  mere  thought  of 
his  mind,  and  casually,  as  it  were,  he  put  his  hand  upon  the 
fact,  and,  in  gentle  terms  and  with  a kind  aspect,  to  inspire 
him  with  confidence  and  hope,  asked  him  who  he  was,  and 
whence  he  was  derived.  He,  taking  heart,  spoke  thus  : ‘‘  I 
will  hide  nothing  from  you,  for  you  seem  to  be  of  a more 
princely  temper  than  Amulius,  in  that  you  give  a hearing  and 
examine  before  you  punish,  while  he  condemns  before  the 
cause  is  heard.  Formerly,  then,  we  (for  we  are  twins)  thought 
ourselves  the  sons  of  Faustulus  and  Larentia,  the  king’s  ser- 
vants ; but  since  we  have  been  accused  and  aspersed  with 
calumnies,  and  brought  in  peril  of  our  lives  here  before  you, 
we  hear  great  things  of  ourselves,  the  truth  of  which  my  pres- 
ent danger  is  likely  to  bring  to  the  test.  Our  birth  is  said  to 
have  been  secret,  our  fostering  and  nurture  in  our  infancy 
still  more  strange  ; by  birds  and  beasts,  to  whom  we  were 
cast  out,  we  were  fed,  by  the  milk  of  a wolf,  and  the  morsels 
of  a woodpecker,  as  we  lay  in  a little  trough  by  the  side  of 
the  river.  The  trough  is  still  in  being,  and  is  preserved,  with 
^ brass  plates  round  it,  and  an  inscription  in  letters  almost  efi 
faced,  which  may  prove  hereafter  unavailing  tokens  to  oui 
parents  when  we  are  dead  and  gone.”  Numitor,  upon  these 
words,  and  computing  the  dates  by  the  young  man’s  looks, 
slighted  not  the  hope  that  flattered  him,  but  considered  how 
to  come  at  his  daughter  privately  (for  she  was  still  kept  under 
restraint),  to  talk  with  her  concerning  these  matters. 

Faustulus,  hearing  Remus  was  taken  and  delivered  up, 
called  on  Romulus  to  assist  in  his  rescue,  informing  him  ther? 


40 


ROMULUS. 


placinly  of  the  particulars  of  his  birth,  not  but  he  had  before 
given  hints  of  it,  and  told  as  much  as  an  attentive  man  might 
make  no  small  conclusions  from  ; he  himself,  full  of  concern 
and  fear  of  not  coming  in  time,  took  the  trough,  and  ran  in- 
stantly to  Numitor  ; but  giving  a suspicion  to  some  of  the 
king^s  sentry  at  h^s  gate,  and  being  gazed  upon  by  them  and 
perplexed  with  their  questions,  he  let  it  be  seen  that  he  was 
hiding  the  trough  under  his  cloak.  By  chance  there  was  one 
among  them  who  was  at  the  exposing  of  the  children,  and 
was  one  employed  in  the  office ; he,  seeing  the  trough  and 
knowing  it  by  its  make  and  inscription,  guessed  it  the  busi- 
ness, and,  without  further  delay,  telling  the  king  of  it,  brought 
in  the  man  to  be  examined.  Faustulus,  hard  beset,  did  not 
show  himself  altogether  proof  against  terror  ; nor  yet  was  he 
wholly  forced  out  of  all ; confessed  indeed  the  children  were 
alive,  but  lived,  he  said,  as  shepherds,  a great  way  from  Alba  ; 
he  himself  was  going  to  carry  the  trough  to  Ilia,  who  had 
often  greatly  desired  to  see  and  handle  it,  for  a confirmation 
of  her  hopes  of  her  children.  As  men  generally  do  who  are 
troubled  in  mind  and  act  either  in  fear  or  passion,  it  so  fell 
out  Amulius  now  did  ; for  he  sent  in  haste  as  a messenger,  a 
man,  otherwise  honest,  and  friendly  to  Numitor,  with  com- 
mands to  learn  from  Numitor  whether  any  tidings  were  come 
to  him  of  the  children’s  being  alive.  He,  coming  and  seeing 
how  little  Remus  wanted  of  being  received  into  the  arms  and 
embraces  of  Numitor,  both  gave  him  surer  confidence  in  his 
hope,  and  advised  them,  with  all  expedition,  to  proceed  to 
action  ; himself  too  joining  and  assisting  them,  and  indeed, 
had  they  wished  it,  the  time  would  not  have  let  them  demur. 
For  Romulus  was  now  come  very  near,  and  many  of  the  citi- 
zens, out  of  fear  and  hatred  of  Amulius,  were  running  out  to 
join  him  ; besides,  he  brought  great  forces  with  him,  divided 
into  companies  each  of  an  hundred  men,  every  captain 
carrying  a small  bundle  of  grass  and  shrubs  tied  to  a pole. 
The  Latins  call  such  bundles  ma7iipuli^  and  from  hence  it  h 
that  in  their  armies  still  they  call  their  captains  maiiipulares. 
Remus  rousing  the  citizens  within  to  revolt,  and  Romulus 
making  attacks  from  without,  the  tyrant,  not  knowing  either 
what  to  do,  or  what  expedient  to  think  of  for  his  security,  in 
this  perplexity  and  confusion  was  taken  and  put  to  death. 
This  narrative  for  the  most  part  given  by  Fabius  and  Diodes 
of  Peparethus,  who  seem  to  be  the  earliest  historians  of  the 
foundation  of  Rome,  is  suspected  by  some,  because  of  its 
dramatic  and  fictitious  appearance  ; but  ’t  would  not  wholly 


ROMULUS. 


4Tr 

De  disbelieved,  if  men  would  remember  what  a poet  fortune 
sometimes  shows  herself,  and  consider  that  the  Roman 
power  w^ould  hardly  have  reached  so  high  a pitch  without  a 
divinely  ordered  origin,  attended  with  great  and  extraordinary 
circumstances. 

Amulius  now  being  dead  and  matters  quietly  disposed,  the 
two  brothers  would  neither  dwell  in  Alba  without  governing 
there,  nor  take  the  government  into  their  own  hands  during 
the  life  of  their  grandfather.  Having  therefore  delivered  the 
dominion  up  into  his  hands,  and  paid  their  mother  befitting 
honor,  they  resolved  to  live  by  themselves,  and  build  a city 
ill  the  same  place  where  they  were  in  their  infancy  brought 
up.  This  seems  the  most  honorable  reason  for  their  depart- 
ure ; though  perhaps  it  was  necessary,  having  such  a body  of 
slaves  and  fugitives  collected  about  them,  either  to  come  to 
nothing  by  dispersing  them,  or  if  not  so,  then  to  live  with 
them  elsewhere.  For  that  the  inhabitants  of  Alba  did  not 
think  fugitives  worthy  of  being  received  and  incorporated  as 
citizens  among  them  plainly  appears  from  the  matter  of  the 
women,  an  attempt  made  not  wantonly  but  of  necessity,  be- 
cause they  could  not  get  wives  by  good-will.  For  they  cer- 
tainly paid  unusual  respect  and  honor  to  those  whom  they 
thus  forcibly  seized. 

Not  long  after  the  first  foundation  of  the  city,  they  opened 
a sanctuary  of  refuge  for  all  fugitives,  which  they  called  the 
temple  of  the  god  Asylaeus,  where  they  received  and  protected 
all,  delivering  none  back,  neither  the  servant  to  his  master, 
the  debtor  to  his  creditor,  nor  the  murderer  into  the  hands  of 
the  magistrate,  saying  it  was  a privileged  place,  and  they  could 
so  maintain  it  by  an  order  of  the  holy  oracle  ; insomuch  that 
the  city  grew  presently  very  populous,  for  they  say,  it  con- 
sisted at  first  of  no  more  than  a thousand  houses.  But  of  that 
hereafter. 

Their  minds  being  full  bent  upon  building,  there  arose 
presently  a difference  about  the  place  where.  Romulus  chose 
what  was  called  Roma  Quadrata,  or  the  Square  Rome,  and 
would  have  the  city  there.  Remus  laid  out  a piece  of  ground 
on  the  Aventine  Mount,  well  fortified  by  nature,  which  was 
from  him  called  Remonium,  but  now  Rignarium.  Concluding 
at  last  to  decide  the  contest  by  a divination  from  a flight  of 
birds,  and  placing  themselves  apart  at  some  distance.  Remus, 
they  say,  saw  six  vultures,  and  Romulus  double  that  number  ; 
others  say,  Remus  did  truly  see  his  number,  and  that  Romulus 
feigned  his,  but  when  Remus  came  to  him,  that  then  he  didl< 


42 


ROMULUS. 


indeed,  see  twelve.  Hence  it  is  that  the  Romans,  in  theii 
divinations  from  birds,  chiefly  regard  the  vulture,  though 
Herodorus  Ponticus  relates  that  Hercules  was  always  very 
joyful  when  a vulture  appeared  to  him  upon  any  action.  For 
it  is  a creature  the  least  hurtful  of  any,  pernicious  neither  to 
corn,  fruit-tree,  nor  cattle ; it  preys  only  upon  carrion,  and 
never  kills  or  hurts  any  living  thing  ; and  as  for  birds,  it  touches 
not  them,  though  they  are  dead,  as  being  of  its  own  species, 
whereas  eagles,  owls,  and  hawks  mangle  and  kill  their  own 
fellow-creatures  ; yet,  as  ^schylus  says, — 

What  bird  is  clean  that  preys  on  fellow  bird  ? 

Besides,  all  other  birds  are,  so  to  say,  never  out  of  our  eyes  ; 
they  let  themselves  be  seen  of  us  continually  ; but  a vultuie  is 
a very  rare  sight,  and  you  can  seldom  meet  with  a man  that 
has  seen  their  young ; their  rarity  and  infrequency  has  raised 
a strange  opinion  in  some,  that  they  come  to  us  from  some 
other  world  ; as  soothsayers  ascribe  a divine  origination  to  all 
things  not  produced  either  of  nature  or  of  themselves. 

When  Remus  knew  the  cheat,  he  was  much  displeased  ; 
and  as  Romulus  was  casting  up  a ditch,  where  he  designed  the 
foundation  of  the  city-wall,  he  turned  some  pieces  of  the  work 
to  ridicule,  and  obstructed  others  ; at  last,  as  he  was  in  con- 
tempt leaping  over  it,  some  say  Romulus  himself  struck  him, 
others  Celer,  one  of  his  companions  ; he  fell,  however,  and  in 
the  scuffle  Faiistulus  also  was  slain,  and  Piistinys,'who,  being 
Faustulus^s  brother,  story  tells  us,  helped  to  bring  up  Romulus. 
Celer  upon  this  fled  instantly  into  Tuscany,  and  from  him  the 
Romans  call  all  men  that  are  swift  of  feet  Celeres  ; and 
because  Quintus  Metellus,  at  his  father^s  funeral,  in  a few  days* 
time  gave  the  people  a show  of  gladiators,  admiring  his  expe- 
dition in  getting  it  ready,  they  gave  him  the  name  of  Celer. 

Romulus,  having  buried  his  brother  Remus,  together  with 
his  two  foster-fathers,  on  the  mount  Remonia,  set  to  building 
his  city;  and  sent  for  men  out  of  Tuscany,  who  directed  him 
by  sacred  usages  and  written  rules  in  all  the  ceremonies  to  be 
observed,  as  in  a religious  rite.  First,  they  dug  a round 
trench  about  that  which  is  now  the  Comitium,  or  Court  of 
Assembly,  and  into  it  solemnly  threw  the  first-fruits  of  all 
things  either  good  by  custom  or  necessary  by  nature ; lastly, 
every  man  taking  a small  piece  of  earth  of  the  country  from 
whence  he  came,  they  all  threw  in  promiscuously  together. 
This  trench  they  call,  as  they  do  the  heavens,  Mundus  ; mak- 
ing which  their  centre,  they  described  the  city  in  a circle  round 


ROMULUS. 


43 


it  Then  the  founder  fitted  to  a plough  a brazen  ploughshare, 
a :d,  yoking  together  a bull  and  a cow,  drove  himself  a deep 
hne  or  furrow  round  the  bounds  ; while  the  business  of  those 
that  followed  after  was  to  see  that  whatever  earth  was  thrown 
up  should  be  turned  all  inwards  towards  the  city  ; and  not  to 
let  any  clod  lie  outside.  With  this  line  they  described  the 
wall,  and  called  it,  by  a contraction,  Pomoerium,  that  is, 
murmn,  after  or  beside  the  wall  ; and  where  they  designed  to 
make  a gate,  there  they  took  out  the  share,  carried  the  plough 
over,  and  left  a space;  for  which  reason  they  consider  the 
whole  wall  as  holy,  except  where  the  gates  are  ; for  had  they 
adjudged  them  also  sacred,  they  could  not,  without  offence  to 
religion,  have  given  free  ingress  and  egress  for  the  necessaries 
of  human  life,  some  of  which  are  in  themselves  unclean. 

As  for  the  day  they  began  to  build  the  city,  it  is  universally 
agreed  to  have  been  the  twenty-first  of  April,  and  that  day  the 
Romans  annually  keep  holy,  calling  it  their  country's  birth- 
day. At  first,  they  say,  they  sacrificed  no  living  creature  on 
this  day,  thinking  it  fit  to  preserve  the  least  of  their  country’s 
birth-day  pure  and  without  stain  of  blood.  Yet  before  ever 
the  city  was  built,  there  was  a feast  of  herdsmen  and  shep- 
herds kept  on  this  day,  which  went  by  the  name  of  Palilia. 
The  Roman  and  Greek  months  have  now  little  or  no  agree- 
ment ; they  say,  however^  the  day  on  which  Romulus  began  to 
build  was  quite  certainly  the  thirtieth  of  the  month,  at  which 
time  there  was  an  eclipse  of  the  sun  which  they  conceived  to 
be  that  seen  by  Antimachus,  the  Teian  poet,  in  the  third  year 
of  the  sixth  Olympiad.  In  the  times  of  Varro  the  philosopher, 
a man  deeply  read  in  Roman  history,  lived  one  Tarrutius,  his 
familiar  acquaintance,  a good  philosopher  and  mathematician, 
and  one,  too,  that  out  of  curiosity  had  studied  the  way  of 
drawing  schemes  and  tables,  and  was  thought  to  be  a jDroficient 
in  the  art  ; to  him  Varro  propounded  to  cast  Romulus’s  na- 
tiv  ty,  even  to  the  first  day  and  hour,  making  his  deductions 
from  the  several  events  of  the  man’s  life  which  he  should  be 
informed  of,  exactly  as  in  working  back  a geometrical  prob- 
lem ; for  it  belonged,  he  said,  to  the  same  science  both  to 
foretell  a man’s  life  by  knowing  the  time  of  his  birth,  and  also 
to  find  out  his  birth  by  the  knowledge  of  his  life.  This  task 
d'arrutius  undertook,  and  first  looking  into  the  actions  and 
casualties  of  the  man,  together  with  the  time  of  his  life  and 
manner  of  his  death,  and  then  comparing  all  these  remarks 
together,  he  very  confidently  and  positively  pronounced  that 
Romulus  was  conceived  in  his  mother’s  womb  the  first  year 


44 


ROMULUS. 


of  the  second  Olympiad,  the  twenty-third  day  of  the  month  the 
Egyptians  call  Choeac,  and  the  third  hour  after  sunset,  at 
which  time  there  was  a total  eclipse  of  the  sun  ; that  :e  was 
born  the  twenty-first  day  of  the  month  Thoth,  about  sum 
rising ; and  that  the  first  stone  of  Rome  was  laid  by  him  the 
ninth  day  of  the  month  Pharmuthi,  between  the  second  and 
third  hour.  For  the  fortunes  of  cities  as  well  as  of  men,  they 
think,  have  their  certain  periods  of  time  prefixed,  which  may 
be  collected  and  foreknown  from  the  position  of  the  stars  at 
their  first  foundation.  But  these  and  the  like  relations  may 
perhaps  not  so  much  take  and  delight  the  reader  with  their 
novelty  and  curiosity,  as  offend  him  by  their  extrav  agance. 

The  city  now  being  built,  Romulus  enlisted  all  that  were 
of  age  to  bear  arms  into  military  companies,  each  company 
consisting  of  three  thousand  footmen  and  three  hundred  horse. 
These  companies  were  called  legions,  because  they  were  the 
choicest  and  most  select  of  the  people  for  fighting  men.  The 
rest  of  the  multitude  he  called  the  people  ; an  hundred  of  the 
most  eminent  he  chose  for  counsellors  ; these  he  styled  patri- 
cians, and  their  assembly  the  senate,  which  signifies  a council 
of  elders.  The  patricians,  some  say,  were  so  called  because 
they  were  the  fathers  of  lawful  children  ; others,  because  they 
could  give  a good  account  who  their  own  fathers  were,  which 
not  every  one  of  the  rabble  that  poured  into  the  city  at  first 
could  do  j others,  from  patronage,  their  word  for  protection  of 
inferiors,  the  origin  of  which  they  attribute  to  Patron,  one  oi 
those  that  came  over  with  Evander,  who  was  a great  protector 
and  defender  of  the  weak  and  needy.  But  perhaps  the  most 
probable  judgment  might  be,  that  Romulus,  esteeming  it  the 
duty  of  the  chiefest  and  wealthiest  men,  with  a fatherly  care 
and  concern  to  look  after  the  meaner,  and  also  encouraging 
the  commonalty  not  to  dread  or  be  aggrieved  at  the  honors  of 
their  superiors,  but  to  love  and  respect  them,  and  to  think  and 
call  them  their  fathers,  might  from  hence  give  them  the  name 
of  patricians.  For  at  this  very  time  all  foreigners  give  sena- 
tors the  style  of  lords  ; but  the  Romans,  making  use  of  a mere 
honorable  and  less  invidious  name,  call  them  Patres  Com 
script!  j at  first  indeed,  simply  Patres,  but  afterwards,  more 
being  added,  Patres  Conscript!.  By  this  more  imposing  title 
he  distinguished  the  senate  from  the  populace  ; and  in  other 
ways  also  separated  the  nobles  and  the  commons, — calling 
them  patrons,  and  these  their  clients, — by  which  means  he 
created  wonderful  love  and  amity  betwixt  them,  productiv’^e  of 
great  justice  in  their  dealings.  For  they  were  always  their 


ROMULUS. 


45 


client’s  counsellors  in  law  cases,  their  advocates  in  courts  of 
justice,  in  fine  their  advisers  and  supporters  in  all  affairs  what- 
e\^er.  These  again  faithfully  served  their  patrons,  not  only 
p?ying  them  all  respect  and  deference,  but  also,  in  case  of 
poverty,  helping  them  to  portion  their  daughters  and  pay  off 
their  debts ; and  for  a patron  to  witness  against  his  client,  or 
a client  against  his  patron,  was  what  no  law  nor  magistrate 
could  enforce.  In  after-times,  all  other  duties  subsisting  still 
between  them,  it  was  thought  mean  and  dishonorable  for  the 
better  sort  to  take  money  from  their  inferiors.  And  so  much 
of  these  matters. 

In  the  fourth  month,  after  the  city  was  built,  as  Fabias 
writes,  the  adventure  of  stealing  the  women  was  attempted ; 
and  some  say  Romulus  himself,  being  naturally  a martial  man, 
and  predisposed  too,  perhaps  by  certain  oracles,  to  believe 
the  fates  had  ordained  the  future  growth  and  greatness  of 
Rome  should  depend  upon  the  benefit  of  war,  upon  these  ac- 
counts first  offered  violence  to  the  Sabines,  since  he  took 
away  only  thirty  virgins,  more  to  give  an  occasion  of  war 
than  out  of  any  want  of  women.  But  this  is  not  very  prob- 
able ; it  would  seem  rather  that,  observing  his  city  to  be  filled 
by  a confluence  of  foreigners,  few  of  whom  had  wives,  and 
that  the  multitude  in  general,  consisting  of  a mixture  of  mean 
and  obscure  men,  fell  under  contempt,  and  seemed  to  be  of 
no  long  continuance  together,  and  hoping  farther,  after  the 
women  were  appeased,  to  make  this  injury  in  some  measure 
an  occasion  of  confederacy  and  mutual  commerce  with  the 
Sabines,  he  took  in  hand  this  exploit  after  this  manner. 
First,  he  gave  it  out  as  if  he  had  found  an  altar  of  a certain 
god  hid  under  ground;  the  god  they  called  Consus,  eithei 
the  god  of  counsel  (for  they  still  call  a consultation  consilium^ 
and  their  chief  magistrates  consules^  namely,  counsellors),  or 
else  the  equestrian  Neptune,  for  the  altar  is  kept  covered  in 
the  circus  maximus  at  all  other  times,  and  only  at  horse-races 
is  exposed  to  public  view ; others  merely  say  that  this  god 
had  his  altar  hid  under  ground  because  counsel  ought  to  be 
secret  and  concealed.  Upon  discovery  of  this  altar,  Rom 
ulus,  by  proclamation,  appointed  a day  for  a splendid  sacrifice, 
and  for  public  games  and  shows,  to  entertain  all  sorts  of 
people : many  flocked  thither,  and  he  himself  sate  in  front, 
amidst  his  nobles,  clad  in  purple.  Now  the  signal  for  their 
falling  on  was  to  be  whenever  he  rose  and  gathered  up  his 
robe  and  threw  it  over  his  body ; his  men  stood  all  ready 
aimed,  with  their  eyes  intent  upon  him,  and  when  tlic  sign 


46 


ROMULUS. 


was  given,  drawing  their  swords  and  falling  on  with  a great 
shout,  they  ravished  away  the  daughters  of  the  Sabines,  they 
themselves  flying  without  any  let  or  hindrance.  They  say 
there  were  but  thirty  taken,  and  from  them  the  Curiae  or 
Fraternities  were  named  ; but  Valerius  Antias  says  five  hun- 
dred and  twenty-seven,  Juba,  six  hundred  and  eighty-three 
virgins  : which  was  indeed  the  greatest  excuse  Romulus  could 
allege,  namely,  that  they  had  taken  no  married  woman,  save 
one  only,  Hersilia  by  name,  and  her  too  unknowingly  ; which 
showed  that  they  did  not  commit  this  rape  wantonly,  but 
with  a design  purely  of  forming  alliance  with  their  neighbors 
by  the  greatest  and  surest  bonds.  This  Hersilia  some  say 
Hostilius  married,  a most  eminent  man  among  the  Romans  : 
others,  Romulus  himself,  and  that  she  bore  two  children  to 
him,  a daughter,  by  reason  of  primogeniture  called  Prima, 
and  one  only  son,  whom,  from  the  great  concourse  of  citizens 
to  him  at  that  time,  he  called  Aollius,  but  after  ages  Abillius. 
But  Zenodotus  the  Troezenian,  in  giving  this  account,  is  con- 
tradicted by  many. 

Among  those  who  committed  this  rape  upon  the  virgins, 
there  were,  they  say,  as  it  so  then  happened,  some  of  the 
meaner  sort  of  men,  who  were  carrying  off  a damsel,  excelling 
all  in  beauty  and  comeliness  and  stature,  whom  when  some 
of  superior  rank  that  met  them  attempted  to  take  away,  they 
cried  out  they  were  carrying  her  to  Talasius,  a young  man, 
indeed,  but  brave  and  worthy  ; hearing  that,  they  commended 
and  applauded  them  loudly,  and  also  some,  turning  back, 
accompanied  them  with  good-will  and  pleasure , shouting  out 
the  name  of  Talasius.  Hence  the  Romans  to  this  very  time, 
at  their  weddings,  sing  Talasius  for  their  nuptial  word,  as  the 
Greeks  do  Hymenseus,  because  they  say  Talasius  was  very 
happy  in  his  marriage.  But  Sextius  Sylla  the  Carthaginian, 
a man  wanting  neither  learning  nor  ingenuity,  told  me  Rom- 
ulus gave  this  word  as  a sign  when  to  begin  the  onset ; every- 
body, therefore,  who  made  prize  of  a maiden,  cried  out, 
'Palasius ; and  for  that  reason  the  custom  continues  so  now 
a"  marriages.  But  most  are  of  opinion  (of  whom  Juba  par- 
ticularly is  one)  that  this  word  was  used  to  new-married 
women  by  way  of  incitement  to  good  housewifery  and  talasia 
(spinning),  as  we  say  in  Greek,  Greek  words  at  that  time  not 
being  as  yet  overpowered  by  Italian.  But  if  this  be  the  case, 
and  if  the  Romans  did  at  time  use  the  word  talasia  as  we  do, 
a man  might  fancy  a more  probable  reason  of  the  custom. 
For  when  the  Sabines,  after  the  war  against  the  Romans, 


ROMULUS 


47 


were  reconciled,  conditions  were  made  concerning  theii 
women,  that  they  should  be  obliged  to  do  no  other  servile 
offices  to  their  husbands  but  what  concerned  spinning ; it 
was  customary,  therefore,  ever  after,  at  weddings,  for  those 
that  gave  the  bride  or  escorted  her  or  otherwise  were  present  , 
sportingly  to  say  Talasius,  intimating  that  she  was  henceforth 
to  serve  in  spinning  and  no  more.  It  continues  also  a custom 
at  this  very  day  for  the  bride  not  of  herself  to  pass  her  hus- 
band’s threshold,  but  to  be  lifted  over,  in  memory  that  the 
Sabine  virgins  were  carried  in  by  violence,  and  did  not  go  in 
of  their  own  will.  Some  say,  too,  the  custom  of  parting  the 
bride’s  hair  with  the  head  of  a spear  was  in  token  their  mar- 
riages began  at  first  by  war  and  acts  of  hostility,  of  which  I 
nave  spoken  more  fully  in  my  book  of  Questions. 

This  rape  was  committed  on  the  eighteenth  day  of  the 
month  Sextilis,  now  called  August,  on  which  the  solemnities 
of  the  Consualia  are  kept. 

The  Sabines  were  a numerous  and  martial  people,  but 
lived  in  small,  unfortified  villages,  as  it  befitted,  they  thought, 
a colony  of  the  Lacedaemonians  to  be  bold  and  fearless  ; 
nevertheless,  seeing  themselves  bound  by  such  hostages  to 
their  good  behavior,  and  being  solicitous  for  their  daughters, 
they  sent  ambassadors  to  Romulus  with  fair  and  equitable 
requests,  that  he  would  return  their  young  women  and  recall 
that  act  of  violence,  and  afterwards,  by  persuasion  and  law- 
ful means,  seek  friendly  correspondence  between  both  nations. 
Romulus  would  not  part  with  the  young  women,  yet  proposed 
to  the  Sabines  to  enter  into  an  alliance  with  them  ; upon  which 
point  some  consulted  and  demurred  long,  but  Acron,  king  of 
the  Ceninenses,  a man  of  high  spirit  and  a good  warrior,  who 
had  all  along  a jealousy  of  Romulus’s  bold  attempts,  and 
considering  particularly  from  this  exploit  upon  the  women, 
that  he  was  growing  formidable  to  all  people,  and  indeed  in- 
sufferable, were  he  not  chastised,  first  rose  up  in  arms,  and 
with  a powerful  army  advanced  against  him.  Romulus  like- 
wise prepared  to  receive  him  ; but  when  they  came  within 
sight  and  viewed  each  other,  they  made  a challenge  to  fight  a 
single  duel,  the  armies  standing  by  under  arms,  without  par- 
ticipation. And  Romulus,  making  a vow  to  Jupiter,  if  he 
should  conquer,  to  carry,  himself,  and  dedicate  his  adversary’s 
armor  to  his  honor,  overcame  him  in  combat,  and  a battle 
ensuing,  routed  his  army  also,  and  then  took  his  city ; but  did 
those  he  found  in  it  no  injury,  only  commanded  them  to  de- 
molish the  place  and  attend  him  to  Rome,  there  to  be  admitted 


48 


ROMULUS. 


to  all  the  privileges  of  citizens.  And  indeed  there  was  no- 
thing did  more  advance  the  greatness  of  Rome,  than  that  she 
did  always  unite  and  incorporate  those  whom  she  conquered 
into  herself.  Romulus,  that  he  might  perform  his  vow  in  the 
most  acceptable  manner  to  Jupiter,  and  withal  make  the  pomp 
of  it  delightful  to  the  eye  of  the  city,  cut  down  a tall  oak 
which  he  saw  growing  in  the  camp,  which  he  trimmed  to  the 
shape  of  a trophy,  and  fastened  on  it  Acron^s  whole  suit  of 
armor  disposed  in  proper  form;  then  he  himself,  girding  bis 
dothes  about  him,  and  crowning  his  head  with  a laurel  gar- 
land, his  hair  gracefully  flowing,  carried  the  trophy  resting 
erect  upon  his  right  shoulder,  and  so  marched  on,  singing 
songs  of  triumph,  and  his  whole  army  following  after,  the 
citizens  all  receiving  him  with  acclamations  of  joy  and  wonder. 
The  procession  of  this  day  was  the  origin  and  model  of  all 
after  triumphs.  This  trophy  was  styled  an  offering  to  Jupiter 
Feretrius,  from  ferire^  which  in  Latin  is  to  smite  ; for  Rom- 
ulus prayed  he  might  smite  and  overthrow  his  enemy ; and  the 
spoils  were  called  or  royal  spoils,  says  Varro,  from 

their  richness,  which  the  word  opes  signifies  ; though  one 
would  more  probably  conjecture  from  opus^  an  act ; for  it  is 
only  to  the  general  of  an  army  who  with  his  own  hand  kills 
his  enemies’  general  that  this  honor  is  granted  of  offering  the 
opima  spolia.  And  three  only  of  the  Roman  captains  have 
had  it  conferred  on  them : first,  Romulus,  upon  killing  Acron 
the  Ceninensian ; next,  Cornelius  Cossus,  for  slaying  To- 
lumnius  the  Tuscan  ; and  lastly,  Claudius  Marcellus,  upon  his 
conquering  Viridomarus,  king  of  the  Gauls.  The  two  latter, 
Cossus  and  Marcellus,  made  their  entries  in  triumphant 
chariots,  bearing  their  trophies  themselves  ; but  that  Rom- 
ulus made  use  of  a chariot,  Dionysius  is  wrong  in  asserting. 
History  says,  Tarquinius,  Damaratus’s  son,  was  the  first  that 
brought  triumphs  to  this  great  pomp  and  grandeur ; others, 
that  Publicola  was  the  first  that  rode  in  triumph.  The  statues  of 
Romulus  in  triumph  are,  as  may  be  seen  in  Rome,  all  on  foot. 

After  the  overthrow  of  the  Ceninensians,  the  other  Sa- 
bines still  protracting  the  time  in  preparations,  the  people  of 
Fidenae,  Crustumerium,  and  Antemna,  joined  their  forces 
against  the  Romans  ; they  in  like  manner  were  defeated  in 
battle,  and  surrendered  up  to  Romulus  their  cities  to  be 
seized,  their  lands  and  territories  to  be  divided,  and  them- 
selves to  be  transplanted  to  Rome.  All  the  lands  which 
Romulus  acquired,  he  distributed  among  the  citizens,  except 
Qnly  what  the  parents  of  the  stolen  virgins  had ; these  he  suf- 


ROMULUS. 


49 


fered  to  possess  their  own.  The  rest  of  the  Sabines,  enraged 
hereat,  choosing  Tatius  their  captain,  marched  straight  against 
Rome.  The  city  was  almost  inaccessible,  having  for  its  fort- 
ress that  which  is  now  the  Capitol,  where  a strong  guard  was 
placed,  and  Tarpeius  their  captain  ; not  Tarpeia  the  virgin, 
as  some  say  who  would  make  Romulus  a fool.  But  Tarpeia, 
daughter  to  the  captain,  coveting  the  golden  bracelet's  she 
saw  them  wear,  betrayed  the  fort  into  the  Sabines’  hands,  and 
asked,  in  reward  of  her  treachery,  the  things  they  wore  on 
their  left  arms.  Tatius  conditioning  thus  with  her,  in  the 
night  she  opened  one  of  the  gates,  and  received  the  Sabines 
in.  And  truly  Antigonus,  it  would  seem,  was  not  solitary  in 
saying,  he  loved  betrayers,  but  hated  those  who  had  betrayed  ; 
nor  Caesar,  who  told  Rhymitalces  the  Thracian,  that  he  loved 
the  treason,  but  hated  the  traitor ; but  it  is  the  general  feel- 
ing of  all  who  have  occasion  for  wicked  men’s  service,  as 
people  have  for  the  poison  of  venomous  beasts  ; they  are  glad 
of  them  while  they  are  of  use,  and  abhor  their  baseness  wh^n 
it  is  over.  And  so  then  did  Tatius  behave  towards  Tarpeia, 
for  he  commanded  the  Sabines,  in  regard  to  their  contract, 
not  to  refuse  her  the  least  part  of  what  they  wore  on  their 
left  arms ; and  he  himself  first  took  his  bracelet  off  his  arm, 
and  threw  that,  together  with  his  buckler,  at  her  ; and  all  the 
rest  following,  she,  being  borne  down  and  quite  buried  with 
the  multitude  of  gold  and  their  shields,  died  under  the  weight 
and  pressure  of  them  ; Tarpeius  also  himself,  being  prose- 
cuted by  Romulus,  was  found  guilty  of  treason,  as  Juba  says 
Sulpicius  Galba  relates;  Those  who  write  otherwise  con- 
cerning Tarpeia,  as  that  she  was  the  daughter  of  Tatiiis,  the 
Sabine  captain,  and  being-  forcibly  detained  by  Romulus, 
acted  and  suffered  thus  by  her  father’s  contrivance,  speak 
veiy  absurdly,  of  whom  Antigonus  is  one.  And  Simylus,  the 
poet,  who  thinks  Tarpeia  betrayed  the  Capitol,  not  to  the 
Sabines,  but  the  Gauls,  having  fallen  in  love  with  their  king, 
talks  mere  folly,  saying  thus  : — 

Tar])eia  kwas,  who,  dwelling  close  therebvi 
Laid  open  Rome  unto  the  enemy, 

She,  for  the  love  of  the  besieging  Gaul, 

Betrayed  the  city’s  strength,  the  Capitol. 

\nd  a little  after,  speaking  of  her  death 

The  numerous  nations  of  the  Celtic  foe 
Bore  her  not  living  to  the  banks  of  Po ; 

Their  heavy  shields  upon  the  maid  they  threw, 

And  with  their  splendid  gifts  entombed  at  once  and  slew. 


so 


ROMULUS. 


Tarpeia  afterwards  was  buried  there,  and  the  h 11  from  her 
was  called  Tarpeius,  until  the  reign  of  king  larquin,  who 
dedicated  the  place  to  Jupiter,  at  ^vhich  time  her  bones  were 
removed,  and  so  it  lost  her  name,  except  only  that  part  of 
the  Capitol  which  they  still  called  the  Tarpeian  Rock,  from 
which  they  used  to  cast  down  malefactors. 

Tlie  Sabines  being  possessed  of  the  hill,  Romulus,  in  great 
fury,  bade  them  battle,  and  Tatius  was  confident  to  accept  it, 
perceiving,  if  they  were  overpowered,  that  they  had  behind 
them  a secure  retreat.  The  level  in  the  middle,  where  they 
were  to  join  battle,  being  surrounded  with  many  little  hills 
seemed  to  enforce  both  parties  to  a sharp  and  desperate  con- 
flict, by  reason  of  the  difficulties  of  the  place,  which  had  but 
a few  outlets,  inconvenient  either  for  refuge  or  pursuit.  It 
happened,  too,  the  river  having  overflowed  not  many  days 
before,  there  was  left  behind  in  the  plain,  where  now  the 
forum  stands,  a deep  blind  mud  and  slime,  which,  though  it 
did  not  appear  much  to  the  eye,  and  was  not  easily  avoided, 
at  bottom  was  deceitful  and  dangerous  ; upon  which  the 
Sabines  being  unwarily  about  to  enter,  met  with  a piece  of 
good  fortune  ; for  Curtius,  a gallant  man,  eager  of  honor,  and 
of  aspiring  thoughts,  being  mounted  on  horseback,  was  gal- 
loping on  before  the  rest,  and  mired  his  horse  here,  aPxd, 
endeavoring  for  a while,  by  whip  and  spur  and  voice  to  dis- 
entangle him,  but  finding  it  impossible,  quitted  him  and  saved 
himself ; the  place  from  him  to  this  very  time  is  called  the 
Curtian  Lake.  The  Sabines,  having  avoided  this  danger, 
began  the  fight  very  smartly,  the  fortune  of  the  day  being  very 
dubious,  though  many  were  slain  ; amongst  whom  was  Hos- 
tilius,  who,  they  say,  was  husband  to  Hersilia,  and  grand- 
father to  that  Hostilius  who  reigned  after  Numa.  There 
were  many  other  brief  conflicts,  we  may  suppose,  but  the  most 
memorable  was  the  last,  in  which  Romulus  having  received  a 
wound  on  his  head  by  a stone,  and  being  almost  felled  to  the 
ground  by  it,  and  disabled,  the  Romans  gave  way,  and, 
being  driven  out  of  the  level  ground,  fled  towards  the  Pala* 
tium.  Romulus,  by  this  time  recovering  from  his  wound  a 
little,  turned  about  to  renew  the  battle,  and,  facing  the  fliers, 
with  a loud  voice  encouraged  them  to  stand  and  fight.  But 
being  overborne  with  numbers,  and  nobody  daring  to  face 
about,  stretching  out  his  hands  to  heaven,  he  pra3^ed  to  Jupi- 
ter to  stop  the  army,  and  not  to  neglect,  but  maintain  the 
Roman  cause,  now  in  extreme  danger.  The  prayer  was  no 
sooner  made,  than  shame  and  respect  for  ffieir  king  checked 


ROMULUS. 


many  ; the  fears  of  the  fugitives' changed  suddenly  into  confi 
dence.  The  place  they  first  stood  at  was  where  now  is  the 
temple  of  Jupiter  Stator  (which  may  be  translated  the  Stayer) j 
there  they  rallied  again  into  ranks  and  repulsed  the  Sabines 
to  the  place  called  now  Regia,  and  to  the  temple  of  Vesta  ; 
where  both  parties,  preparing  to  begin  a second  battle,  were 
prevented  by  a spectacle,  strange  to  behold,  and  defying 
description.  For  the  daughters  of  the  Sabines,  who  had  been 
carried  off,  came  running,  in  great  confusion,  some  on  this 
side,  some  on  that,  with  miserable  cries  and  lamentations, 
like  creatures  possessed,  in  the  midst  of  the  army  and  among 
the  dead  bodies,  to  come  at  their  husbands  and  their  fathers, 
some  with  their  young  babes  in  their  arms,  others  their  hair 
loose  about  their  ears,  but  all  calling,  now  upon  the  Sabines, 
now  upon  the  Romans,  in  the  most  tender  and  endearing 
words.  Hereupon  both  melted  into  compassion,  and  fell 
back,  to  make  room  for  them  betwixt  the  armies.  The  sight 
of  the  women  carried  sorrow  and  commiseration  upon  both 
sides  into  the  hearts  of  all,  but  still  more  their  words,  which 
began  with  expostulation  and  upbraiding,  and  ended  with 
entreaty  and  supplication. 

“Wherein,’’  say  they,  “have  we  injured  or  offended  you, 
as  to  deserve  such  sufferings  past  and  present?  We  were 
ravished  away  unjustly  and  violently  by  those  whose  now  we 
are  ; that  being  done,  we  were  so  long  neglected  by  our 
fathers,  our  brothers  and  countrymen,  that  time,  having  now 
by  the  strictest  bonds  united  us  to  those  we  once  mortally 
hated,  has  made  it  impossible  for  us  not  to  tremble  at  the 
danger  and  weep  at  the  death  of  the  very  men  who  once  used 
violence  to  us.  You  did  not  come  to  vindicate  our  honor, 
while  we  were  virgins,  against  our  assailants  ; but  do  come 
now  to  force  away  wives  from  their  husbands  and  mothers 
from  their  children,  a succor  more  grievous  to  its  wretched 
objects  than  the  former  betrayal  and  neglect  of  them. 
Which  shall  we  call  the  worst,  their  love-making  or  your  com’ 
passion  ? If  you  were  making  war  upon  any  other  occasion^ 
for  our  sakes  you  ought  to  withhold  your  hands  from  those  to 
whom  we  have  made  you  fathers-in-law  and  grandsires.  If  it 
be  for  our  own  cause,  then  take  us,  and  with  us  your  sons-in- 
law  and  grandchildren.  Restore  to  us  our  parents  and  kin- 
dred, but  do  not  rob  us  of  our  children  and  husbands.  Make 
us  not,  we  entreat  you,  twice  captives.”  Hersilia  having 
spoken  many  such  words  as  these,  and  the  others  earnestly 
praying,  a truce  was  made,  and  the  chief  officers  came  to  a 


52 


ROMULUS. 


parley ; the  women,  in  the  mean  time,  brought  and  presented 
their  husbands  and  children  to  their  fathers  and  brothers ; 
gave  those  that  wanted,  meat  and  drink,  and  carried  the 
wounded  home  to  be  cured,  and  showed  also  how  much  tliey 
governed  within  doors,  and  how  indulgent  their  husbands 
were  to  them,  in  demeaning  themselves  towards  them  with 
all  kindness  and  respect  imaginable.  Upon  this,  conditions 
were  agreed  upon,  that  what  women  pleased  might  stay 
where  they  were,  exempt,  as  aforesaid,  from  all  drudgery  and 
labor  but  spinning  ; that  the  Romans  and  Sabines  should 
inhabit  the  city  together  ; that  the  city  should  be  called  Rome 
from  Romulus  ; but  the  Romans,  Quirites,  from  the  country 
ofTatius;  and  that  they  both  should  govern  and  command 
in  common.  The  place  of  the  ratification  is  still  called 
Comitium,  from  coire^  to  meet. 

The  city  being  thus  doubled  in  number,  an  hundred  of  the 
Sabines  were  elected  senators,  and  the  legions  were  increased 
to  six  thousand  foot  and  six  hundred  horse ; then  they 
divided  the  people  into  three  tribes  ; the  first,  from  Romulus, 
named  Ramnenses  ; the  second,  from  Tatius,  Tatienses  ; the 
third  Luceres,  from  the  lucus^  or  grove,  where  the  Asylum 
stood,  whither  many  fled  for  sanctuary,  and  were  received 
into  the  city.  And  that  they  were  just  three,  the  very  name  of 
tribe  and  tribune  seems  to  show ; each  tribe  contained  ten 
curiae,  or  brotherhoods,  which,  some  say,  took  their  names 
from  the  Sabine  women ; but  that  seems  to  be  false,  because 
many  had  their  names  from  various  places.  Though  it  is 
true,  they  then  constituted  many  things  in  honor  to  the 
women  ; as  to  give  them  the  way  wherever  they  met  them  \ 
to  speak  no  ill  word  in  their  presence ; not  to  appear  naked 
before  them,  or  else  be  liable  to  prosecution  before  the  judge, 
of  homicide;  that  their  children  should  wear  an  ornament 
about  their  necks  called  the  bulla  (because  it  was  like  a 
bubble),  and  the  prcetexta^  a gown  edged  with  purple. 

The  princes  did  not  immediately  join  in  council  together, 
but  at  first  each  met  with  his  own  hundred ; afterwards  all 
assembled  together.  Tatius  dwelt  where  now  the  temple  of 
Moneta  stands,  and  Romulus,  close  by  the  steps,  as  they  call 
them,  of  the  Fair  Shore,  near  the  descent  from  the  Mount 
Palatine  to  the  Circus  Maximus.  There,  they  say,  grew  the 
lioly  cornel  tree,  of  which  they  report,  that  Romulus  once,  to 
try  his  strength,  threw  a dart  from  the  Aventine  Mount,  the 
staff  of  which  was  made  of  cornel,  which  struck  so  deep  into 
the  ground,  that  no  one  of  many  that  tried  could  pluck  it  up  • 


ROMULUS. 


S3 


and  the  soil,  being  fertile,  gave  nourishment  to  the  wood, 
which  sent  forth  branches,  and  produced  a cornel  stock  of 
considerable  bigness.  This  did  posterity  preserve  and  wor- 
ship as  one  of  the  most  sacred  things  ; and  therefore  walled 
it  about ; and  if  to  any  one  it  appeared  not  green  nor  flourish 
ing,  but  inclining  to  pine  and  wither,  he  immediately  made 
outcry  to  all  he  met,  and  they,  like  people  hearing  of  a houst; 
on  fire,  with  one  accord  would  cry  for  water,  and  run  from  all 
parts  with  buckets  full  to  the  place.  But  when  Caius  Caesar, 
they  say,  was  repairing  the  steps  about  it,  some  of  the  labor- 
ers digging  too  close,  the  roots  were  destroyed,  and  the  tree 
withered. 

The  Sabines  adopted  the  Roman  months,  of  which  what- 
ever is  remarkable  is  mentioned  in  the  Life  of  Numa. 
Romulus,  on  the  other  hand,  adopted  their  long  shields,  and 
changed  his  own  armor  and  that  of  all  the  Romans,  who 
before  wore  round  targets  of  the  Argive  pattern.  Feasts  and 
sacrifices  they  partook  of  in  common,  not  abolishing  any 
which  either  nation  observed  before,  and  instituting  several 
new  ones  ; of  which  one  was  the  Matronalia,  instituted  in 
honor  of  the  women,  for  their  extinction  of  the  war  ; likewise 
the  Carmentalia.  This  Carmenta  some  think  a deity  pre- 
siding over  human  birth ; for  which  reason  she  is  much 
honored  by  mothers.  Others  say  she  was  the  wife  of  Evan- 
der,  the  Arcadian,  being  a prophetess,  and  wont  to  deliver  her 
oracles  in  verse,  and  from  carmen^  a verse,  was  called  Car- 
menta ; her  proper  name  being  Nicostrata.  Others  more 
probably  derive  Carmenta  from  carens  meiite^  or  insane,  in 
allusion  to  her  prophetic  frenzies.  Of  the  Feast  of  Palilia 
we  have  spoken  before.  The  Lupercalia,  by  the  time  of  its 
celebration,  may  seem  to  be  a feast  of  purification,  for  it  is 
solemnized  on  the  dies  7iefasti^  or  non-court  days,  of  (he 
month  February,  which  name  signifies  purification,  and  (lie 
very  day  of  the  feast  was  anciently  called  Februata  ; but  its 
name  is  equivalent  to  the  Greek  Lycaea  \ and  it  seems  thus 
to  be  of  great  antiquity,  and  brought  in  by  the  Arcadians  who 
came  with  Evander.  Yet  tliis  .s  but  dubious,  for  it  may 
come  as  well  from  the  wolf  that  nursed  Romulus  ; and  w'e  see 
the  Luperci,  the  priests,  begin  their  course  from  the  place 
where  they  say  Romulus  was  exposed.  But  the  ceremonies 
performed  in  it  render  the  origin  of  the  thing  more  difficult 
to  be  guessed  at ; for  there  are  goats  killed,  then,  two  young 
noblemen’s  sons  being  brought,  some  are  to  stain  their  fore- 
heads with  the  bloody  knife,  others  presently  to  wipe  it  ofl 


54 


ROMULUS. 


with  wool  dipped  in  milk  ; then  the  young  boys  must  laugh 
after  their  foreheads  are  wiped  ; that  done,  having  cut  the 
goats'  skins  into  thongs,  they  run  about  naked,  only  with 
something  about  their  middle,  lashing  all  they  meet ; and  the 
young  wives  do  not  avoid  their  strokes,  fancying  they  will 
help  conception  and  childbirth.  Another  thing  peculiar  to 
this  feast  is  for  the  Luperci  to  sacrifice  a dog.  But,  as  a 
certain  poet  who  wrote  fabulous  explanations  of  Roman  cus  - 
toms in  elegiac  verses,  says,  that  Romulus  and  Remus,  aftei 
the  conquest  of  Amulius,  ran  joyfully  to  the  place  where  the 
wolf  gave  them  suck  ; and  that  in  imitation  of  that,  this  feas^ 
was  held,  and  two  young  noblemen  ran — 

Striking  at  all,  as  when  from  Alba  town, 

With  sword  in  hand,  the  twins  came  hurrying  down ; 

and  that  the  bloody  knife  applied  to  their  foreheads  was  a sign 
of  the  danger  and  bloodshed  of  that  day  ; the  cleansing  of  them 
in  milk,  a remembrance  of  their  food  and  nourishment.  Caius 
Acil’us  writes,  that,  before  the  city  was  built,  the  cattle  of 
Romulus  and  Remus  one  day  going  astray,  they,  praying  to  the 
god  Faunus,  ran  out  to  seek  them  naked,  wishing  not  to  be 
troubled  with  sweat,  and  that  this  is  why  the  Luperci  run 
naked.  If  the  sacrifice  be  by  way  of  purification,  a dog  might 
very  well  be  sacrificed,  for  the  Greeks,  in  their  illustrations, 
carry  out  young  dogs,  and  frequently  use  this  ceremony  of 
periscylacismus^  as  they  call  it.  Or  if  again  it  is  a sacrifice  of 
gratitude  to  the  wolf  that  nourished  and  preserved  Romulus, 
there  is  good  reason  in  killing  a dog,  as  being  an  enemy  to 
wolves.  Unless,  indeed,  after  all,  the  creature  is  punished  for 
hindering  the  Luperci  in  their  running. 

They  say,  too,  Romulus  was  the  first  that  consecrated  holy 
fire,  and  instituted  holy  virgins  to  keep  it,  called  vestals  ; 
others  ascribe  it  to  Numa  Pompilius  ; agreeing,  however,  that 
Romulus  was  otherwise  eminently  religious,  and  skilled  in 
divination,  and  for  that  reason  carried  the  lituus^  a crooked 
rod  with  which  soothsayers  describe  the  quarters  of  the 
heavens,  when  they  sit  to  observe  the  flights  of  birds.  This 
of  his,  being  kept  in  the  Palatium,  was  lost  when  the  city  was 
taken  by  the  Gauls  ; and  afterwards,  that  rarbarous  people 
being  driven  out,  was  found  in  the  ruins,  under  a great  heap 
of  ashes,  untouched  by  the  fire,  all  things  about  it  being  con- 
sumed and  burnt.  He  instituted  also  certain  laws,  one  of 
which  is  somewhat  severe,  which  suffers  not  a wife  to  leave 
her  husband,  but  grants  a husband  power  to  turn  off  his  wife 


ROMULUS. 


55 


either  upon  poisoning  her  children,  or  counterfeiting  his 
keys,  or  for  adultery;  but  if  the  husband  upon  any  other 
occasion  put  her  away,  he  ordered  one  moiety  of  his  es 
tate  to  be  given  to  the  wife,  the  other  to  fall  to  the  goddess 
Ceres  ; and  whoever  cast  off  his  wife,  to  make  an  atonement 
by  sacrifice  to  the  gods  of  the  dead.  This,  too,  is  observable 
as  a singular  thing  in  Romulus,  that  he  appointed  no  punish- 
ment for  real  parricide,  but  called  all  murder  so,  thinking  the 
one  an  accursed  thing,  but  the  other  a thing  impossible ; and^ 
for  a long  time,  his  judgment  seemed  to  have  been  right ; foi 
in  almost  six  hundred  years  together,  nobody  committed  (1  e 
like  in  Rome  ; and  Lucius  Hostius,  after  the  wars  of  Hanni- 
bal, is  recorded  to  have  been  the  first  parricide.  Let  thus 
much  suffice  concerning  these  matters. 

In  the  fifth  year  of  the  reign  of  Tatius,  some  of  his  friends 
and  kinsmen,  meeting  ambassadors  coming  from  Laurentuin 
to  Rome,  attempted  on  the  road  to  take  away  their  money 
by  force,  and,  upon  their  resistance,  killed  them.  So  great 
a villany  having  been  committed  Romulus  thought  the  mal- 
efactors ought  at  once  to  be  punished,  but  Tatius  shuffled 
off  and  deferred  the  execution  of  it ; and  this  one  thing  was 
the  beginning  of  open  quarrel  betwixt  them  ; in  all  other  re- 
spects they  were  very  careful  of  their  conduct,  and  adminis- 
tered affairs  together  with  great  unanimity.  The  relations  of 
the  slain,  being  debarred  of  lawful  satisfaction  by  reason  of 
Tatius,  fell  upon  him  as  he  was  sacrificing  with  Romulus  at 
Lavinium,  and  slew  him  ; but  escorted  Romulus  home,  com- 
mending and  extolling  him  for  a just  prince.  Romulus  took 
the  body  of  Tatius,  and  buried  it  very  splendidly  in  the 
Aventine  Mount,  near  the  place  called  Armilustrium,  but  al- 
together neglected  revenging  his  murder.  Some  authors 
write,  the  city  of  Laurentuin,  fearing  the  consequences,  de- 
livered up  the  murderers  of  Tatius ; but  Romulus  dismissed 
them,  saying,  one  murder  was  requited  with  another.  This 
gave  occasion  of  talk  and  jealousy,  as  if  he  were  well  pleased 
at  the  removal  of  his  co-partner  in  the  government.  Nothing 
of  these  things,  however,  raised  any  sort  of  feud  or  disturb- 
ance among  the  Sabines  ; but  some  out  of  love  to  him,  others 
out  I'.f  fear  of  his  power,  some  again  reverencing  him  as  a god, 
they  all  continued  living  peacefully  in  admiration  and  awe  of 
him  ; many  foreign  nations,  too,  showed  respect  to  Romulus  ; 
the  Ancient  Latins  sent,  and  entered  into  league  and  confed- 
eracy with  him.  Fidenae  he  took,  a neighboring  city  to 
Rome,  by  a partv  of  horse,  as  some  say,  whom  he  sent  before 


56 


KOMULUS- 


with  commands  to  cut  down  the  hinges  of  the  gates,  him 
self  afterwards  uiiexpectedly  coming  up.  Others  say,  they 
having  first  made  the  invasion,  plundering  and  ravaging  the 
country  and  suburbs,  Romulus  lay  in  ambush  for  them,  and 
having  killed  many  of  their  men,  took  the  city  ; but,  neverthe- 
less, did  not  raze  or  demolish  it,  but  made  it  a Roman  colony, 
and  sent  thither,  on  the  Ides  of  April,  two  thousand  five  hun* 
died  inhabitants. 

Soon  after  a plague  broke  out,  causing  sudden  death 
without  any  previous  sickness  ; it  infected  also  the  corn  with 
unfruitfulness,  and  cattle  with  barrenness ; there  rained 
blood,  too,  in  the  city ; so  that,  to  their  actual  sufferings,  fear 
of  the  wrath  of  the  gods  was  added.  But  when  the  same 
mischiefs  fell  upon  Laurentum,  then  everybody  judged  it  was 
divine  vengeance  that  fell  upon  both  cities,  for  the  neglect  of 
executing  justice  upon  the  murder  of  1 atius  and  the  ambassa- 
dors. But  the  murderers  on  both  sides  being  delivered  up 
and  punished,  the  pestilence  visibly  abated  ; and  Romulus 
purified  the  cities  with  lustrations,  which,  they  say,  even  now, 
are  performed  at  the  wood  called  Ferentina.  But  before  the 
plague  ceased,  the  Camertines  invaded  the  Romans  and 
overran  the  country,  thinking  them,  by  reason  of  the  distem- 
per, unable  to  resist;  but  Romulus  at  once  made  head 
against  them,  and  gained  the  victory,  with  the  slaughter  of  six 
thousand  men,  then  took  their  city,  and  brought  half  of  those 
he  found  there  to  Rome,  sending  from  Rome  to  Cameriurn 
double  the  number  he  left  there.  This  was  done  the  first  of 
August.  So  many  citizens  had  he  to  spare,  in  sixteen  years^ 
time  from  his  first  founding  Rome.  Among  other  spoils,  he 
took  a brazen  four-horse  chariot  from  Cameriurn,  which  he 
placed  in  the  temple  of  Vulcan,  setting  on  it  his  own  statue, 
with  a figure  of  victory  crowning  him. 

The  Roman  cause  thus  daily  gathering  strength,  their 
weaker  neighbors  shrunk  away,  and  were  thankful  to  be  left 
untouched  ; but  the  stronger,  out  of  fear  or  env}%  thought 
tney  ought  not  to  give  way  to  Romulus,  but  to  curb  and  put  a 
stop  to  his  growing  greatness.  The  first  were  the  Veientes,  a 
people  of  Tuscany,  who  had  large  possessions,  and  dwelt  in  a 
spacious  city ; they  took  occasion  to  commence  a w^ar,  by 
claiming  Fidenae  as  belonging  to  them  ; a thing  not  only  very 
unreasonable,  but  very  ridiculous,  that  they,  who  did  not  assist 
them  in  the  greatest  extremities,  but  permitted  them  to  be 
slain,  should  challenge  their  lands  and  houses  when  in  the 
hands  of  others.  But  being  scornfully  retorted  upon  bj 


ROMULUS. 


57 


Romulus  in  his  answers,  they  divided  themselves  into  two 
bodies  ; with  one  they  attacked  the  garrison  of  Fidenae,  the 
other  marched  against  Romulus ; that  which  went  against 
Fidenae  got  the  victory,  and  slew  two  thousand  Romans  ; the 
other  was  worsted  by  Romulus,  with  the  loss  of  eight  thou- 
sand men.  A fresh  battle  was  fought  near  Fidenae,  and  here 
all  men  acknowledge  the  day’s  success  to  have  been  chiefly 
the  work  of  Romulus  himself,  who  showed  the  highest  skill 
as  well  as  courage,  and  seemed  to  manifest  a strength  and 
swiftness  more  than  human.  But  what  some  write,  that,  of 
fourteen  thousand  that  fell  that  day,  above  half  were  slain  by 
Romulus’s  own  hand,  verges  too  near  to  fable,  and  is,  indeed, 
simply  incredible  ; since  even  the  Messenians  are  thought  to 
go  tou  far  in  saying  that  Aristomenes  three  times  offered 
sacrifice  for  the  death  of  a hundred  enemies,  Lacedaemonians, 
slain  by  himself.  I'he  army  being  thus  routed,  Romulus, 
suffering  those  that  were  left  to  make  their  escape,  led  his 
forces  against  the  city ; they,  having  suffered  such  great 
losses,  did  not  venture  to  oppose,  but,  humbly  suing  to  him, 
made  a league  and  friendship  for  an  hundred  years  ; surren- 
dering also  a large  district  of  land  called  Septempagium,  that 
is,  the  seven  parts,  as  also  their  salt-works  upon  the  river,  and 
fifty  noblemen  for  hostages.  He  made  his  triumph  for  this 
on  the  Ides  of  October,  leading,  among  the  rest  of  his  many 
captives,  the  general  of  the  Veientes,  an  elderly  man,  but 
who  had  not,  it  seemed,  acted  with  the  prudence  of  age  j 
whence  even  now,  in  sacrifices  for  victories,  they  lead  an  old 
man  through  the  market-place  to  the  Capitol,  apparelled  in 
purple,  with  a bulla^  or  child’s  toy,  tied  to  it,  and  the  crier 
cries,  Sardians  to  be  sold ; for  the  Tuscans  are  said  to  be  a 
colony  of  the  Sardians,  and  the  Veientes  are  a city  of  Tus- 
cany. 

This  was  the  last  battle  Romulus  ever  fought ; afterwards 
he,  as  most,  nay  all  men,  very  few  excepted,  do,  who  are 
raised  by  great  and  miraculous  good-haps  of  fortune  to  power 
.%nd  greatness,  so,  I say,  did  he ; relying  upon  his  own  great 
actions,  and  growing  of  an  haughtier  mind,  he  forsook  his 
popular  behavior  for  kingly  arrogance,  odious  to  the  people  ; 
to  whom  in  particular  the  state  which  he  assumed  was  hate- 
ful. For  he  dressed  in  scarlet,  with  the  purple-bordered  robe 
over  it ; he  gave  audience  on  a couch  of  state,  having  always 
about  him  some  young  men  called  Celeres,irom  their  swiftness 
in  doing  commissions  ; there  went  before  him  otliers  with 
staves,  to  make  room,  with  leather  thongs  tied  on  their  bodies, 


ROMULUS. 


S8 

to  bind  on  the  moment  whomever  he  commanded.  The 
Latins  formerly  used  ligare  in  the  same  sense  as  now  alligare^ 
to  bind,  whence  the  name  licfors^  for  these  officers,  and  bactila^ 
or  staves,  for  their  rods,  because  staves  were  then  used.  It  is 
probable,  however,  they  were  first  called  litores^  afterw^ards^ 
by  putting  in  a c,  lictores^  or,  in  Greek,  liturgi^  or  people^s  of- 
ficers, for  leitos  is  still  Greek  for  the  commons,  and  Laos  foi 
the  people  in  general. 

But  when,  after  the  death  of  his  grandfather  Numitor  in 
Alba,  the  throne  devolving  upon  Romulus,  he,  to  court  the 
people,  put  the  government  into  their  owm  hands,  and  appoint- 
ed an  ajinual  magistrate  over  the  Albans,  this  taught  the  great 
men  of  Rome  to  seek  after  a free  and  anti-monarchical  state, 
wherein  all  might  in  turn  be  subjects  and  rulers.  For  neither 
w^ere  the  patricians  any  longer  admitted  to  state  affairs,  only 
had  the  name  and  title  left  them,  convening  in  council  rather 
for  fashion’s  sake  than  advice,  where  they  heard  in  silence  the 
king’s  commands,  and  so  departed,  exceeding  the  commonalty 
only  in  hearing  first  what  was  done.  These  and  the  like 
were  matters  of  small  moment ; but  w^hen  he  of  his  own  ac- 
cord parted  among  his  soldiers  wLat  lands  were  acquired  by 
war,  and  restored  the  Veientes  their  hostages,  the  senate 
neither  consenting  nor  approving  of  it,  then,  indeed,  he  seemed 
to  put  a great  affront  upon  them  ; so  that,  on  his  sudden  and 
strange  disappearance  a short  while  after,  the  senate  fell 
under  suspicion  and  calumny.  He  disappeared  on  the  Nones 
of  JuR,  as  they  now  call  the  month  w^hich  was  then  Quintilis, 
leaving  nothing  of  certainty  to  be  related  of  his  death  ; only 
the  time,  as  just  mentioned,  for  on  that  day  many  ceremonies 
are  still  performed  in  representation  of  what  happened. 
Neither  is  this  uncertainty  to  be  thought  strange,  seeing  the 
manner  of  the  death  of  Scipio  Africanus,  who  died  at  his  own 
home  after  supper,  has  been  found  capable  neither  of  proof 
or  disproof ; for  some  say  he  died  a natural  death,  being  of  ^ 
sickly  habit ; others,  that  he  poisoned  himself  ; others  again, 
that  his  enemies,  breaking  in  upon  him  in  the  night,  stifled 
him.  Yet  Scipio’s  dead  body  lay  open  to  be  seen  of  all,  and 
any  one,  from  his  own  observation,  might  form  his  suspicions 
and  conjectures , whereas  Romulus,  when  he  vanished,  left 
neither  the  least  part  of  his  body,  nor  any  remnant  of  his 
clothes  to  be  seen.  So  that  some  fancied,  the  senators,  having 
fallen  upon  him  in  the  temple  of  Vulcan,  cut  his  body  into 
pieces,  and  took  each  a part  away  in  his  bosom  ; others  thiuk 
his  disappearance  was  neither  in  the  temple  of  Vulcan,  noi 


ROMULUS 


59 


with  the  senators  only  by,  but  that  it  came  to  pass  that,  as 
he  was  haranguing  the  people  without  the  city,  near  a place 
called  the  Goat’s  Marsh,  on  a sudden  strange  and  unaccount- 
able disorders  and  alterations  took  place  in  the  air;  the  face 
of  the  sun  was  darkened,  and  the  day  turned  into  night,  and 
that,  too,  no  quiet,  peaceable  night,  but  with  terrible  thunder- 
ings,  and  boisterous  winds  from  all  quarters  ; during  which 
the  common  people  dispersed  and  fled,  but  the  senators  kep^ 
close  together.  The  tempest  being  over  and  the  light  break* 
ing  out,  when  the  people  gathered  again,  they  missed  and 
inquired  for  their  king;  the  senators  suffered  them  not  to 
search,  or  busy  themselves  about  the  matter,  but  commanded 
them  to  honor  and  worship  Romulus  as  one  taken  up  to  the 
gods,  and  about  to  be  to  them,  in  the  place  of  a good  prince, 
now  a propitious  god.  The  multitude,  hearing  this,  went 
away  believing  and  rejoicing  in  hopes  of  good  things  from 
him  ; but  there  were  some,  who,  canvassing  the  matter  in  a 
hostile  temper,  accused  and  aspersed  the  patricians,  as  men 
that  persuaded  the  people  to  believe  ridiculous  tales,  when 
they  themselves  were  the  murderers  of  the  king. 

Things  being  in  this  disorder,  one,  they  say,  of  the  patri- 
cians, of  noble  family  and  approved  good  character,  and  a 
faithful  and  familiar  friend  of  Romulus  himself,  having  come 
with  him  from  Alba,  Julius  Proculus  by  name,  presented 
himself  in  the  forum  ; and,  taking  a most  sacred  oath,  pro- 
tested before  them  all,  that,  as  he  was  travelling  on  the  road, 
he  had  seen  Romulus  coming  to  meet  him,  looking  taller  and 
comelier  than  ever,  dressed  in  shining  and  flaming  armor; 
and  he,  being  affrighted  at  the  apparition,  said,  ‘‘  Why,  O 
king,  or  for  what  purpose  have  you  abandoned  us  to  unjust 
and  wicked  surmises,  and  the  whole  city  to  bereavement  and 
endless  sorrow } ” and  that  he  made  answer,  It  pleased  the 
gods,  0 Proculus,  that  we,  who  came  from  them,  should  re- 
main so  long  a time  amongst  men  as  we  did  ; and,  having 
buiit  a city  to  be  the  greatest  in  the  world  for  empire  and 
gloiy,  should  again  return  to  heaven.  But  farewell ; and  tell 
the  Romans,  that,  by  the  exercise  of  temperance  and  forti- 
tude, they  shall  attain  the  height  of  human  power ; we  will 
be  to  you  the  propitious  god  Quirinus.”  This  seemed  credi- 
ble to  the  Romans,  upon  the  honesty  and  oath  of  the  rclater, 
and  indeed,  too,  there  mingled  with  it  a certain  divine  passion, 
some  preternatural  influence  similar  to  possession  by  a dign- 
ity ; nobody  contradicted  it,  but,  laying  aside  all  jealousies  and 
detractions,  they  prayed  to  Quirinus  and  saluted  him  as  a god. 


6o 


ROMULUS. 


This  is  like  some  of  the  Greek  fables  of  Aristeas  tne  Pro 
connesian,  and  Cleomedes  the  Astypalsean ; for  they  say 
Aristeas  died  in  a fuller’s  work-shop,  and  his  friends  coming 
to  look  for  him,  found  his  body  vanished  ; and  that  some 
presently  after,  coming  from  abroad,  said  they  met  him  travel- 
ling towards  Croton.  And  that  Cleomedes,  being  an  extra- 
ordinarily strong  and  gigantic  man,  but  also  wild  and  mad, 
committed  many  desperate  freaks  ; and  at  last,  in  a school- 
house,  striking  a pillar  that  sustained  the  roof  with  his  fist, 
broke  it  in  the  middle,  so  that  the  house  fell  and  destroyed 
the  children  in  it ; and  being  pursued,  he  fled  into  a great 
chest,  and,  shutting  to  the  lid,  held  it  so  fast,  that  many  men, 
with  their  united  strength,  could  not  force  it  open ; after- 
wards, breaking  the  chest  to  pieces,  the  found  no  man  in  it 
alive  or  dead  ; in  astonishment  at  which,  they  sent  to  consult 
the  oracle  at  Delphi ; to  whom  the  prophetess  made  this  an- 
swer, 

Of  all  the  heroes,  Cleomede  is  last. 

They  say,  too,  the  body  of  Alcmena,  as  they  were  carrying  her 
to  her  grave,  vanished,  and  a stone  was  found  lying  on  the 
bier.  And  many  such  improbabilities  do  your  fabulous 
writers  relate,  deifying  creatures  naturally  mortal ; for  though 
altogether  to  disown  a divine  nature  in  human  virtue  were 
impious  and  base,  so  again  to  mix  heaven  with  earth  is  ridic- 
ulous. Let  us  believe  with  Pindar,  that 

All  human  bodies  yield  to  Death’s  decree, 

The  soul  survives  to  all  eternity. 

For  that  alone  is  derived  from  the  gods,  thence  comes,  and 
thither  returns  ; not  with  the  body,  but  when  most  disengaged 
and  separated  from  it,  and  when  most  entirely  pure  and  clean 
and  free  from  the  flesh:  for  the  most  perfect  soul,  says  Hera- 
clitus, is  a dry  light,  which  flies  out  of  the  body  as  light- 
ning breaks  from  a .cloud  ; but  that  which  is  clogged  and 
surfeited  with  body  is  like  gross  and  humid  incense,  slow  to 
kindle  and  ascend.  We  must  not,  therefore,  contrary  to 
cature,  send  the  bodies,  too,  of  good  men  to  heaven  ; but  we 
must  really  believe  that,  according  to  their  divine  nature  and 
law,  their  virtue  and  their  souls  are  translated  out  of  men 
into  heroes,  out  of  heroes  into  demi-gods,  out  of  demi-gods, 
after  passing,  as  in  the  rite  of  initiation,  through  a final 
cleansing  and  sanctification,  and  so  freeing  themselves  from 
all  that  pertains  to  mortality  and  sense,  are  thus,  not  by  hu- 
man decree,  but  really  and  according  to  right  reason,  elevated 


ROMULUS. 


6i 


into  gods  admitted  thus  to  the  greatest  and  most  blessed  per- 
fection. 

Romulus’s  surname  Quirinus,  some  say,  is  equivalent  to 
Mars  ; others,  that  he  was  so  called  because  the  citizens 
were  called  Quirites  ; others,  because  the  ancients  called  a 
dart  or  spear  Quiris  ; thus,  the  statue  of  Juno  resting  on  a 
spear  is  called  Quiritis,  and  the  dart  in  the  Regia  is  addressed 
as  Mars,  and  those  that  were  distinguished  in  war  were 
usually  presented  with  a dart;  that,  therefore,  Romulus  being 
a martial  god,  or  a god  of  darts,  was  called  Quirinus.  A tem- 
ple is  certainly  built  to  his  honor  on  the  mount  called  from 
him  Quirinalis. 

The  day  he  vanished  on  is  called  the  Flight  of  the  People, 
and  the  Nones  of  the  Goats,  because  they  go  then  out  of  the 
city  and  sacrifice  at  the  Goat’s  Marsh,  and,  as  they  go,  they 
shout  out  some  of  the  Roman  names,  as  Marcus,  Lucius, 
Caius,  imitating  the  way  in  which  they  then  fled  and  called 
upon  one  another  in  that  fright  and  hurry.  Some,  however, 
say  this  was  not  in  imitation  of  a flight,  but  of  a quick  and 
hasty  onset,  referring  it  to  the  following  occasion  : after  the 
Gauls  who  had  taken  Rome  were  driven  out  by  Camillus,  and 
the  city  was  scarcely  as  yet  recovering  her  strength,  many 
of  the  Latins,  under  the  command  of  Livius  Postumius,  took 
this  time  to  march  against  her.  Postumius,  halting  not  far 
from  Rome,  sent  a herald,  signifying  that  the  Latins  were 
desirous  to  renew  their  former  alliance  and  affinity  (that  was 
now  almost  decayed)  by  contracting  new  marriages  between 
both  nations  ; if,  therefore,  they  would  send  forth  a good  num- 
ber of  their  virgins  and  widows,  they  should  have  peace  and 
friendship,  such  as  the  Sabines  had  formerly  had  on  the  like 
conditions.  The  Romans,  hearing  this,  dreaded  a war,  yet 
thought  a surrender  of  their  women  little  better  than  mere 
captivity.  Being  in  this  doubt,  a servant-maid  called  Philotis 
(or,  as  some  say,  Tutola),  advised  them  to  do  neither,  but, 
by  a stratagem,  avoid  both  fighting  and  the  giving  up  of  such 
pledges.  The  stratagem  was  this,  that  they  should  send  her- 
self, with  other  well-looking  servant-maids,  to  the  enemy,  in 
the  dress  of  free-born  virgins,  and  she  should  in  the  night 
light  up  a fire  signal,  at  which  the  Romans  should  come 
armed  and  surprise  them  asleep.  The  Latins  were  thus  de- 
ceived, and  accordingly  Philotis  set  up  a torch  in  a wild  fig- 
tree,  screening  it  behind  with  curtains  and  coverlets  from  the 
sight  of  the  enemy,  while  visible  to  the  Romans.  They, 
when  th<^v  sav  it,  eagerly  ran  out  of  the  gates,  calling  in  theij 


b2  COMPARISON  OF  ROMULUS  WITH  THESEUS. 

baste  tc  each  other  as  they  went  out,  and  so,  falling  in  unex- 
pectedly upon  the  enemy,  they  defeated  them,  and  upon  that 
made  a feast  of  triumph,  called  the  Nones  of  the  Goats,  be- 
cause of  the  wild  fig-tree,  called  by  the  Romans  Caprificus,  or 
the  goat-fig.  They  feast  the  women  without  the  city  in  arbors 
made  of  fig-tree  boughs,  and  the  maid-servants  gather  to- 
gether and  run  about  playing ; afterwards  they  fight  in  sport, 
and  throw  stones  one  at  another,  in  memory  that  they  then 
aided  and  assisted  the  Roman  men  in  fight.  This  only  a few 
authors  admit  for  true ; for  the  calling  upon  one  another's 
names  by  day  and  the  going  out  to  the  Goat's  Marsh  to  do 
sacrifice  seem  to  agree  more  with  the  former  story,  unless,  in- 
deed, we  shall  say  that  both  the  actions  might  have  happened 
on  the  same  day  in  different  years.  It  was  in  the  fifty-fourth 
year  of  his  age  and  the  thirty-eighth  of  his  reign  that  Romu- 
lus, they  tell  us,  left  the  world. 


COMPARISON  OF  ROMULUS  WITH 
THESEUS. 

This  is  what  I have  learnt  of  Romulus  and  Theseus, 
worthy  of  memory.  It  seems,  first  of  all,  that  Theseus,  out 
of  his  own  free-will,  without  any  compulsion,  when  he  might 
have  reigned  in  security  at  Troezen  in  the  enjoyment  of  no 
inglorious  empire,  of  his  own  motion  affected  great  actions, 
whereas  the  other,  to  escape  present  servitude  and  a punish- 
ment that  threatened  him  (according  to  Plato’s  phrase),  grew 
valiant  purely  out  of  fear,  and  dreading  the  extremest  inflic- 
tions, attempted  great  enterprises  out  of  mere  necessity. 
Again,  his  greatest  action  was  only  the  killing  of  one  king  of 
Alba ; while,  as  mere  by-adventures  and  preludes,  the  other 
can  name  Sciron,  Sinnis,  Procrustes,  and  Corynetes  ; by 
reducing  and  killing  of  whom,  he  rid  Greece  of  terrible 
oppressors,  before  any  of  them  that  were  relieved  knew  who 
did  it ; moreover,  he  might  without  any  trouble  as  well  have 
gone  to  Athens  by  sea,  considering  he  himself  never  was  in 
the  least  injured  by  those  robbers ; whereas  Romulus  could 
not  but  be  in  trouble  whilst  Amulius  lived.  Add  to  this,  the 
fact  that  Theseus,  for  no  wrong  done  to  himself,  but  for  the 
sake  of  others,  fell  upon  these  villains  ; but  Romulus  and 
Remus,  as  long  as  they  themselves  suffered  no  ill  by  the 


COMPARISON  OF  ROMULUS  WITH  THESEUS.  63 

tyrant,  permitted  him  to  oppress  all  others.  And  if  it  be  a 
great  thing  to  have  been  wounded  in  battle  by  the  Sabines, 
to  have  killed  king  Acron,  and  to  have  conquered  many 
enemies,  we  may  oppose  to  these  actions  the  battle  with 
the  Centaurs  and  the  feats  done  against  the  Amazons.  But 
what  Theseus  adventured,  in  offering  himself  voluntarily  with 
young  boys  and  virgins,  as  part  of  the  tribute  unto  Crete, 
either  to  be  a prey  to  a monster  or  a victim  upon  the  tomb  of 
Androgens,  or,  according  to  the  mildest  form  of  the  stoiy,  to 
live  vilely  and  dishonorably  in  slavery  to  insulting  and  cruel 
men  j it  is  not  to  be  expressed  what  an  act  of  courage,  mag- 
nanimity, or  justice  to  the  public,  or  of  love  for  honor  and 
braver}^,  that  was.  So  that  methinks  the  philosophers  did 
not  ill  define  love  to  be  the  provision  of  the  gods  for  the  care 
and  preservation  of  the  young  ; for  the  love  of  Ariadne,  above 
all,  seems  to  have  been  the  proper  work  and  design  of  some 
god  in  order  to  preserve  Theseus  ; and,  indeed,  we  ought  not 
to  blame  her  for  loving  him,  but  rather  wonder  all  men  and 
women  were  not  alike  affected  towards  him  j and  if  she  alone 
were  so,  truly  I dare  pronounce  her  worthy  of  the  love  of  a 
god,  who  was  herself  so  great  a lover  of  virtue  and  goodness, 
and  the  bravest  man. 

Both  Theseus  and  Romulus  were  by  nature  meant  for 
governors  ; yet  neither  lived  up  to  the  true  character  of  a 
king,  but  fell  off,  and  ran,  the  one  into  popularity,  the  other 
into  tyranny,  falling  both  into  the  same  fault  out  of  different 
passions.  For  a ruler’s  first  end  is  to  maintain  his  office, 
which  is  done  no  less  by  avoiding  what  is  unfit  than  by  observ- 
ing what  is  suitable.  Whoever  is  either  too  remiss  or  too 
strict  is  no  more  a king  or  a governor,  but  either  a demagogue 
or  a despot,  and  so  becomes  either  odious  or  contemptible  to 
his  subjects.  Though  certainly  the  one  seems  to  be  the  fault 
of  easiness  and  good-nature,  the  other  of  pride  and  severity. 

If  men’s  calamities,  again,  are  not  to  be  wholly  imputed 
to  fortune,  but  refer  themselves  to  differences  of  character, 
who  will  acquit  either  Theseus  of  rash  and  unreasonable 
anger  against  his  son,  or  Romulus  against  his  brother  Look- 
ing at  motives,  we  more  easily  excuse  the  anger  wffiich  a 
stronger  cause,  like  a severer  blow,  provoked.  Romulus, 
having  disagreed  with  his  brother  advisedly  and  deliberately 
on  puolic  matters,  one  w'ould  think  could  not  on  a sudden 
have  b'ien  put  into  so  great  a passion  ; but  love  and  jealousy 
and  tie  complaints  of  his  wife,  which  few  men  can  avoid 
being  moved  by,  seduced  Theseus  to  commit  that  outrage 


64  COMPARISON  OF  ROMULUS  WITH  TPIESEUS. 

upon  his  son.  And  what  is  more,  Romulus,  in  his  anger, 
committed  an  action  of  unfortunate  consequence  ; but  that  of 
Theseus  ended  only  in  words,  some  evil  speaking,  and  an  old 
man’s  curse ; the  rest  of  the  youth’s  disasters  seem  to  have 
proceeded  from  fortune  ; so  that  so  far,  a man  would  give  his 
vote  on  Theseus’s  part. 

But  Romulus  has,  first  of  all,  one  great  plea,  that  his  per* 
formances  proceeded  from  very  small  beginnings ; for  both 
the  brothers  being  thought  servants  and  the  sons  of  swine- 
herds, before  becoming  freemen  themselves,  gave  liberty  to 
almost  all  the  Latins,  obtaining  at  once  all  the  most  honor- 
able titles,  as  destroyers  of  their  country’s  enemies,  preservers 
of  their  friends  and  kindred,  princes  of  the  people,  founders 
of  cities,  not  removers,  like  Theseus,  who  raised  and  com- 
piled only  one  house  out  of  many,  demolishing  many  cities 
bearing  the  names  of  ancient  kings  and  heroes.  Romulus, 
indeed,  did  the  same  afterwards,  forcing  his  enemies  to  deface 
and  ruin  their  own  dwellings,  and  to  sojourn  with  their  con- 
querors ; but  at  first,  not  by  removal,  or  increase  of  an  exist- 
ing city,  but  by  foundation  of  a new  one,  he  obtained  himself 
lands,  a country,  a kingdom,  wives,  children,  and  relations. 
And,  in  so  doing,  he  killed  or  destroyed  nobody,  but  benefited, 
those  that  wanted  houses  and  homes  and  were  willing  to 
be  of  a society  and  become  citizens.  Robbers  and  male- 
factors he  slew  not ; but  he  subdued  nations,  he  overthrew 
cities,  he  triumphed  over  kings  and  commanders.  As  to 
Remus,  it  is  doubtful  by  whose  hand  he  fell ; it  is  generally 
imputed  to  others.  His  mother  he  clearly  retrieved  from 
death,  and  placed  his  grandfather,  who  was  brought  under 
base  and  dishonorable  vassalage,  on  the  ancient  throne  of 
^neas,  to  whom  he  did  voluntarily  many  good  offices,  but 
never  did  him  harm  even  inadvertently.  But  Theseus,  in  his 
forgetfulness  and  neglect  of  the  command  concerning  the  flag, 
can  scarcely,  methinks,  by  any  excuses,  or  before  the  most 
indulgent  judges,  avoid  the  imputation  of  parricide.  And, 
indeed,  one  of  the  Attic  writers,  perceiving  it  to  be  very  hard 
to  make  an  excuse  for  this,  feigns  that  ^Lgeus,  at  the  ap- 
proach  of  the  ship,  running  hastily  to  the  Acropolis  to  see 
what  news,  slipped  and  fell  down,  as  if  he  had  no  servants, 
or  none  would  attend  him  on  his  way  to  the  shore. 

And,  indeed,  the  faults  committed  in  the  rapes  of  women 
admit  of  no  plausible  excuse  in  Theseus.  First,  because  of 
the  often  repetition  of  the  crime ; for  he  stole  Ariadne,  Anti- 
ope,  Anaxo  the  Troezenian,  at  last  Helen,  when  he  was  an 


COMPARISON  OF  ROMULUS  WITH  THESEUS,  65 

old  man,  and  she  not  marriageable  ; she  a child,  and  he  at 
an  age  past  even  lawful  wedlock.  Then,  on  account  of  the 
cause  ; for  the  Troezenian,  Lacedaemonian,  and  Amazonian 
virgins,  beside  that  they  were  not  betrothed  to  him,  were  not 
worthier  to  raise  children  by  than  the  Athenian  women,  de- 
rived from  Erechtheus  and  Cecrops  ; but  it  is  to  be  suspected 
these  things  were  done  out  of  wantonness  and  lust.  Romu- 
lus^  when  he  had  taken  near  eight  hundred  women,  chose  not 
all,  but  only  Hersilia,  as  they  say,  for  himself ; the  rest  he 
divided  among  the  chief  of  the  city ; and  afterwards,  by  the 
respect  and  tenderness  and  justice  shown  towards  them,  he 
made  it  clear  that  this  violence  and  injury  was  a commend- 
able and  politic  exploit  to  establish  a society  ; by  which  he 
intermixed  and  united  both  nations,  and  made  it  the  fountain 
of  after  friendship  and  public  stability.  And  to  the  reverence 
and  love  and  constancy  he  established  in  matrimony,  time 
can  witness  ; for  in  two  hundred  and  thirty  years,  neither  any 
husband  deserted  his  wife,  nor  any  wife  her  husband  ; but,  as 
the  curious  among  the  Greeks  can  name  the  first  case  of  par- 
ricide or  matricide,  so  the  Romans  all  well  know  that  Spurius 
Carvilius  was  the  first  who  put  away  his  wife,  accusing  her  of 
barrenness.  The  immediate  results  were  similar ; for  upon 
those  marriages  the  two  princes  shared  in  the  dominion,  and 
both  nations  fell  under  the  same  government.  But  from  the 
marriages  of  Theseus  proceeded  nothing  of  friendship  or  cor- 
respondence for  the  advantage  of  commerce,  but  enmities  and 
wars  and  the  slaughter  of  citizens,  and,  at  last,  the  loss  of  the 
city  Aphidnae,  when  only  out  of  the  compassion  of  the  enemy, 
whom  they  entreated  and  caressed  like  gods,  they  escaped 
suffering  what  Troy  did  by  Pafis.  Theseus^s  mother,  how- 
ever, was  not  only  in  danger,  but  suffered  actually  what 
Hecuba  did^  deserted  and  neglected  by  her  son,  unless  her 
captivity  be  not  a fiction,  as  I could  wish  both  that  and  other 
things  were.  The  circumstances  of  the  divine  intervention, 
said  to  have  preceded  or  accompanied  their  births,  are  also 
in  contrast ; for  Romulus  was  preserved  by  the  special  favor 
of  the  gods  ; but  the  oracle  given  to^geus,  commanding  him 
to  abstain,  seems  to  demonstrate  that  the  birth  of  Theseus 
was  not  agreeable  to  the  will  of  the  gods. 

e 


iLi 


66 


LYCURGUS. 


LYCURGUS. 


There  is  so  much  uncertainty  in  the  accounts  which  his* 
torians  have  left  us  of  Lycurgus,  the  lawgiver  of  Sparta,  that 
scarcely  any  thing  is  asserted  by  one  of  them  which  is  not 
called  into  question  or  contradicted  by  the  rest.  Their  sen- 
timents are  quite  different  as  to  the  family  he  came  of,  the 
voyages  he  undertook,  the  place  and  manner  of  his  death, 
but  most  of  all  when  they  speak  of  the  laws  he  made  and  the 
commonwealth  which  he  founded.  They  cannot,  by  any 
means,  be  brought  to  an  agreement  as  to  the  very  age  in 
which  he  lived  ; for  some  of  them  say  that  he  flourished  in 
the  time  of  Iphitus,  and  that  they  two  jointly  contrived  the 
ordinance  for  the  cessation  of  arms  during  the  solemnity  of 
the  Olympic  games.  Of  this  opinion  was  Aristotle  ; and  for 
confirmation  of  it,  he  alleges  an  inscription  upon  one  of  the 
copper  quoits  used  in  those  sports,  upon  which  the  name  of 
Lycurgus  continued  uneffaced  to  his  time.  But  Eratosthenes 
and  Apollodorus  and  other  chronologers,  computing  the  time 
by  the  successions  of  the  Spartan  kings,  pretend  to  demon- 
strate that  he  was  much  more  incient  than  the  institution  of 
the  Olympic  games.  Timaeus  conjectures  that  there  were 
two  of  ^his  name,  and  in  diverse  times,  but  that  the  one"  of 
them  being  much  more  famous  than  the  other,  men  gave  to 
him  the  glory  of  the  exploits  of  both ; the  elder  of  the  two, 
according  to  him,  was  not  long  after  Homer ; and  some  are 
so  particular  as  to  say  that  he  had  seen  him.  But  that  he 
was  of  great  antiquity  may  be  gathered  from  a passage  in 
Xenophon,  where  he  makes  him  contemporary  with  the  He- 
raclidas.  By  descent,  indeed,  the  very  last  kings  of  Sparta 
were  Heraclid^  too  ; but  he  seems  in  that  place  to  speak  of 
the  first  and  more  immediate  successors  of  Hercules.  But 
notwithstanding  this  confusion  and  obscurity,  we  shall  en- 
deavor to  compose  the  history  of  his  life,  adhering  to  those 
St  atements  which  are  least  contradicted,  and  depending  upon 
those  Authors  who  are  most  worthy  of  credit. 

The  poet  Simonides  will  have  it  that  Lycurgus  was  the 
son  of  Prytanis,  and  not  of  Eunomus ; but  in  this  opinion  he 
is  singular,  for  all  the  rest  deduce  the  genealogy  of  them  both  ■ 
as  follows : — 


LYCURGUS. 


6r 

Aristodemus. 

I 

Patrocics. 

I 

Soils. 

I 

Eiirypon. 

I 

Eunomus. 

^ Ml  ^ 

Pplydectes  by  his  Lycurgus  by  Dionassa 

first  wife.  his  second. 

Dieuchidas  says  he  was  the  sixth  from  Patrocles  and  the 
eleventh  from  Hercules.  Be  this  as  it  will,  Solis  certainly 
was  the  most  renowned  of  all  his  ancestors,  under  whose  con- 
duct the  Spartans  made  slaves  of  the  Helots,  and  added  to 
their  dominions,  by  conquest,  a good  part  of  Arcadia.  There 
goes  a story  of  this  king  Solis,  that,  being  besieged  by  the 
Clitorians  in  a dry  and  stony  place  so  that  he  could  come  at 
no  water,  he  was  at  last  constrained  to  agree  with  them  upon 
these  terms,  that  he  would  restore  to  them  all  his  conquests, 
provided  that  himself  and  all  his  men  should  drink  of  the 
nearest  spring.  After  the  usual  oaths  and  ratifications,  he 
called  his  soldiers  together,  and  offered  to  him  that  would 
forbear  drinking,  his  kingdom  for  a reward  ; and  when  not  a 
man  of  them  was  able  to  forbear,  in  short,  when  they  had  all 
drunk  their  fill,  at  last  comes  king  Solis  himself  to  the  spring, 
and,  having  sprinkled  his  face  only,  without  swallowing  one 
drop,  marches  off  in  the  face  of  his  enemies,  refusing  to  yield 
up  his  conquests,  because  himself  and  all  his  men  had  not, 
according  to  the  articles,  drunk  of  their  water. 

Although  he  was  justly  had  in  admiration  on  this  account, 
yet  his  family  was  not  surnamed  from  him,  but  from  his  son 
Eurypon  (of  whom  they  were  called  Eurypontids)  ; the  reason 
of  which  was  that  Eurypon  relaxed  the  rigor  of  the  monarchy, 
seeking  favor  and  popularity  with  the  many.  They,  after  this 
first  step,  grew  bolder  ; and  the  succeeding  kings  partly  in- 
curred hatred  with  their  people  by  trying  to  use  force,  or,  for 
popularity's  sake  and  through  weakness,  gave  way  ; and  anar- 
chy and  confusion  long  prevailed  in  Sparta,  causing,  moreover, 
the  death  of  the  father  of  Lycurgus.  For  as  he  was  endeav- 
oring to  quell  a riot,  he  was  stabbed  with  a butcher's  knife, 
and  left  the  title  of  king  to  his  eldest  son,  Polydectes. 

He,  too,  dying  soon  after,  the  right  of  succession  (as  every 
one  thought)  rested  in  Lycurgus  ; and  reign  he  did.  until  \l 


68 


LYCURGUS. 


was  found  that  the  queen,  his  sister-in-law,  was  with  child; 
upon  which  he  immediately  declared  that  the  kingdom  be- 
longed to  her  issue,  provided  it  were  male,  and  that  he  him- 
self exercised  the  regal  jurisdiction  only  as  his  guardian  ; the 
Spartan  name  for  which  office  is  prodicus.  Soon  after,  an 
overture  was  made  to  him  by  the  queen,  that  she  would  her- 
self in  some  way  destroy  the  infant,  upon  condition  that  he 
would  marry  her  when  he  came  to  the  crown.  Abhorring  the 
woman^s  wickedness,  he  nevertheless  did  not  reject  her  pro- 
posal, but,  making  show  of  closing  with  her,  despatched  the 
messenger  with  thanks  and  expressions  of  joy,  but  dissuaded 
her  earnestly  from  procuring  herself  to  miscarry,  which  would 
impair  her  health,  if  not  endanger  her  life  ; he  himself,  he 
said,  would  see  to  it,  that  the  child,  as  soon  as  born,  should  be 
taken  out  of  the  way.  By  such  artifices  having  drawn  on  the 
woman  to  the  time  of  her  lying-in,  as  soon  as  he  heard  that 
she  was  in  labor,  he  sent  persons  to  be  by  and  observe  all 
that  passed,  with  orders  that  if  it  were  a girl  they  should  de- 
liver it  to  the  w^omen,  but  if  a boy,  should  bring  it  to  him 
wheresoever  he  were,  and  whatsoever  doing.  It  so  fell  out 
that  when  he  was  at  supper  wdth  the  principal  magistrates  the 
queen  w^as  brought  to  bed  of  a boy,  who  was  soon  after  pre- 
sented to  him  as  he  was  at  the  table  ; he,  taking  him  into  his 
arms,  said  to  those  about  him,  “ Men  of  Sparta,  here  is  a king 
born  unto  us;’^  this  said,  he  laid  him  down  in  the  king’s 
place,  and  named  him  Charilaus,  that  is,  the  joy  of  the  peo- 
ple ; because  that  all  were  transported  with  joy  and  with 
wonder  at  his  noble  and  just  spirit.  His  reign  had  lasted  only 
eight  months,  but  he  was  honored  on  other  accounts  by  the 
citizens,  and  there  were  more  who  obeyed  him  because  of  his 
eminent  virtues,  than  because  he  was  regent  to  the  king  and 
had  the  royal  power  in  his  hands.  Some,  however,  envied 
and  sought  to  impede  his  growing  influence  while  he  w^as  still 
young  ; chiefly  the  kindred  and  friends  of  the  queen-mother, 
who  pretended  to  have  been  dealt  with  injuriously.  Her 
brother  Leonidas,  in  a warm  debate  which  fell  out  betwixt 
him  and  Lycurgus,  went  so  far  as  to  tell  him  to  his  face  that 
he  was  well  assured  that  ere  long  he  should  see  him  king ; 
suggesting  suspicions  and  preparing  the  way  for  an  accusation 
of  him,  as  though  he  had  made  away  with  his  nephew,  if  the 
child  should  chance  to  fail,  though  by  a natural  death.  Words 
of  the  like  import  were  designedly  cast  abroad  by  the  queen- 
mother  and  her  adherents. 

Troubled  at  this,  and  not  knowing  what  it  might  come  to 


LYCURCUS. 


69 


he  thought  it  his  wisest  course  to  avoid  their  envy  by  a volun- 
tary exile,  and  to  travel  from  place  to  place  until  his  nephew 
came  to  marriageable  years,  and,  by  having  a son,  had  se- 
cured the  succession ; setting  sail,  therefore,  with  this  resolu- 
tion, he  first  arrived  at  Crete^  where,  having  considered  their 
several  forms  of  government,  and  got  an  acquaintance  with 
the  principal  men  amongst  them,  some  of  their  laws  he  very 
much  approved  of,  and  resolved  to  make  use  of  them  in  his 
own  country  ; a good  part  he  rejected  as  useless.  Amongst 
the  persons  there  the  most  renowned  for  their  learning  and 
their  wisdom  in  state  matters  w^as  one  Thales,  whom  Lycur- 
gus,  by  importunities  and  assurances  of  friendship,  persuaded 
to  go  over  to  Lacedaemon  ; where,  though  by  his  outward  ap- 
pearance and  his  own  profession  he  seemed  to  be  no  other 
than  a lyric  poet,  in  reality  he  performed  the  part  of  one  of 
the  ablest  law-givers  in  the  world.  The  very  songs  which  he 
composed  w'ere  exhortations  to  obedience  and  concord,  and 
the  very  measure  and  cadence  of  the  verse,  conveying  im- 
pressions of  order  and  tranquillity,  had  so  great  an  influence 
on  the  minds  of  the  listeners,  that  they  w^ere  insensibly  soft- 
ened and  civilized,  insomuch  that  they  renounced  their  pri- 
vate feuds  and  animosities,  and  were  reunited  in  a common 
admiration  of  virtue.  So  that  it  may  truly  be  said  that  Thales 
prepared  the  way  for  the  discipline  introduced  by  Lycurgus. 

From  Crete  he  sailed  to  Asia,  with  design,  as  is  said,  to 
examine  the  difference  betwixt  the  manners  and  rules  of  life 
of  the  Cretans,  which  were  very  sober  and  temperate,  and 
those  of  the  lonians,  a people  of  sumptuous  and  delicate 
habits^  and  so  to  form  a judgment ; just  as  physicians  do  by 
comparing  healthy  and  diseased  bodies.  Here  he  had  the 
first  sight  of  Homer’s  works,  in  the  hands,  we  may  suppose, 
of  the  posterity  of  Creophylus  ; and,  having  observed  that 
the  few  loose  expressions  and  actions  of  ill  example  which 
are  to  be  found  in  his  poems  were  much  outweighed  by  serious 
lessous  of  state  and  rules  of  morality,  he  set  himself  eagerly 
to  transcribe  and  digest  them  into  order,  as  thinking  they 
would  be  of  good  use  in  his  own  country.  They  had,  indeed, 
already  obtained  some  slight  repute  amongst  the  Greeks,  and 
scattered  portions,  as  chance  conveyed  them,  were  in  the 
hands  of  individuals  ; but  Lycurgus  first  made  them  really 
known. 

The  Eg}^ptians  say  that  he  took  a voyage  into  EgyjDt,  and 
that,  being  much  taken  with  their  way  of  separating  the  soh 
diery  from  the  rest  of  the  nation,  he  transferred  it  from  them 


70 


LYCURGUS. 


to  Sparta,  a removal  from  contact  with  those  employed  in  low 
and  mechanical  occupations  giving  high  refinement  and 
beauty  to  the  state.  Some  Greek  writers  also  record  this. 
But  as  for  his  voyages  into  Spain,  Africa,  and  the  Indies,  and 
hiS  conferences  there  with  the  Gymnosophists,  the  whole  re- 
lation, as  far  as  I can  find,  rests  on  the  single  credit  of  the 
Spartan  Aristocrates,  the  son  of  Hipparchus. 

Lycurgus  was  much  missed  at  Sparta,  and  often  sent  for, 
“ for  kings  indeed  we  have,”  they  said,  “ who  wear  the  marks 
and  assume  the  titles  of  royalty,  but  as  for  the  qualities  of 
their  minds,  they  have  nothing  by  which  they  are  to  be  dis- 
tinguished from  their  subjects  ; ” adding,  that  in  him  alone 
was  the  true  foundation  of  sovereignty  to  be  seen,  a nature 
made  to  rule,  and  a genius  to  gain  obedience.  Nor  were  the 
kings  themselves  averse  to  see  him  back,  for  they  looked  upon 
his  presence  as  a bulwark  against  the  insolence  of  the  people. 

Things  being  in  this  posture  at  his  return,  he  applied  him- 
self, without  loss  of  time,  to  a thorough  reformation,  and  re- 
solved to  change  the  whole  face  of  the  commonwealth  ; for 
what  could  a few  particular  laws  and  a partial  alteration 
avail  ? He  must  act  as  wise  physicians  do,  in  the  case  of 
one  who  labors  under  a complication  of  diseases,  by  force  of 
medicines  reduce  and  exhaust  him,  change  his  whole  temper- 
ament, and  then  set  him  upon  a totally  new  regimen  of  diet. 
Having  thus  projected  things,  away  he  goes  to  Delphi  to  con- 
sult Apollo  there  ; which  having  done,  and  offered  his  sacri- 
fice, he  returned  with  that  renowned  oracle,  in  which  he  is 
called  beloved  of  God,  and  rather  God  than  man ; that  his 
prayers  were  heard,  that  his  laws  should  be  the  best,  and  the 
commonwealth  which  observed  them  the  most  famous  in  the 
world.  Encouraged  by  these  things  he  set  himself  to  bring 
over  to  his  side  the  leading  men  of  Sparta,  exhorting  them  to 
give  him  a helping  hand  in  his  great  undertaking  ; he  broke 
it  first  to  his  particular  friends,  and  then  by  degrees  gained 
others,  and  animated  them  all  to  put  his  design  in  execution. 
When  things  were  ripe  for  action,  he  gave  order  to  thirty  of 
the  principal  men  of  Sparta  to  be  ready  armed  at  the  market- 
place by  break  of  day,  to  the  end  that  he  might  strike  a terror 
into  the  opposite  party.  Hermippus  hath  set  down  the  names 
of  twenty  of  the  most  eminent  of  them ; but  the  name  of  him 
whom  Lycurgus  most  confided  in,  and  who  was  of  most  use 
to  him,  both  in  making  his  laws  and  putting  them  in  execu- 
tion was  Arthmiadas.  Things  growing  to  a tumult,  king 
Charilaus,  apprehending  that  it  was  a conspiracy  against  his 


LYCURGUS. 


n 


person,  took  sanctuary  in  the  temple  of  Minerva  of  the  Brazen 
House  ; but,  being  soon  after  undeceived,  and  having  taken 
an  oath  of  them  that  they  had  no  designs  against  him,  he 
quitted  his  refuge,  and  himself  also  entered  into  the  confeder- 
acy with  them  ; of  so  gentle  and  flexible  a disposition  he 
wis,  to  which  Archelaus,  his  brother-king,  alluded,  when, 
hearing  him  extolled  for  his  goodness,  he  said,  “Who  can  say 
he  is  any  thing  but  good  ? he  is  so  even  to  the  bad/’ 

Amongst  the  many  changes  and  alterations  which  Lycur- 
gus  made,  the  first  and  of  greatest  importance  was  the  es- 
tablishment of  the  senate,  which  having  a power  equal  to  the 
kings’  in  matters  of  great  consequence,  and,  as  Plato  express- 
es it,  allaying  and  qualifying  the  fiery  genius  of  the  ‘ royal 
office,  gave  steadiness  and  safety  to  the  commonwealth.  For 
the  state,  which  before  had  no  firm  basis  to  stand  upon,  but 
leaned  one  while  towards  an  absolute  monarchy,  when  the 
kings  had  the  upper  hand,  and  another  while  towards  a pure 
democracy,  when  the  people  had  the  better,  found  in  this  es- 
tablishment of  the  senate  a central  weight,  like  ballast  in  a 
ship,  which  always  kept  things  in  a just  equilibrium  ; the 
twenty-eight  always  adhering  to  the  kings  so  far  as  to  resist 
democracy,  and  on  the  other  hand,  supporting  the  people 
against  the  establishment  of  absolute  monarchy.  As  for  the 
determinate  number  of  twenty-eight,  Aristotle  states,  that  it 
so  fell  out  because  two  of  the  original  associates,  for  want  of 
courage,  fell  off  from  the  enterprise  ; but  Sphaerus  assures  us 
that  there  were  but  twenty-eight  of  the  confederates  at 
first ; perhaps  there  is  some  mystery  in  the  number,  which 
consists  of  seven  multiplied  by  four,  and  is  the  first  of 
perfect  numbers  after  six,  being,  as  that  is,  equal  to  all  its 
parts.  For  my  part,  I believe  Lycurgus  fixed  upon  the  num- 
ber of  twenty-eight,  that,  the  two  kings  being  reckoned 
amongst  them,  they  might  be  thirty  in  all.  So  eagerly  set 
was  he  upon  this  establishment,  that  he  took  the  trouble  to 
obtain  an  oracle  about  it  from  Delphi,  the  Rhetra,  which  runs 
thus:  “ After  that  you  have  built  a temple  to  Jupiter  Hella* 
nius,  and  to  Minerva  Hellania,  and  after  that  you  have 
thyle' d the  people  into  phyles^  and  obdd  them  into  obes^  you 
shall  establish  a council  of  thirty  elders,  the  leaders  included, 
and  shall,  from  time  to  time,  apdlazein  the  people  betwixt 
Babyca  and  Cnacion,  there  propound  and  put  to  the  vote, 
'The  commons  have  the  final  voice  and  decision.”  By  phylei 
and  obes  are  meant  the  divisions  of  the  people  ; by  tir:  leaders^ 
the  two  kings  ; apellazem^  referring  to  the  Pythian  Apollo, 


72 


lYCURGUS. 


signifies  to  assemble ; Babyca  and  Cnacion  they  now  cal! 
CEnus ; Aristotle  says  Cnacion  is  a river,  and  Babyca  a 
bridge.  Betwixt  this  Babyca  and  Cnacion,  their  assemblies 
were  held,  for  they  had  no  council-house  or  building  to  meet 
in.  Lycurgus  was  of  opinion  that  ornaments  were  so  far  from 
advantaging  them  in  their  counsels,  that  they  were  rather  an 
hinderance,  by  diverting  their  attention  from  the  business 
before  them  to  statutes  and  pictures,  and  roofs  curiously 
fretted,  the  usual  embellishments  of  such  places  amongst  the 
other  Greeks.  The  people  then  being  thus  assembled  in  the 
open  air,  it  was  not  allowed  to  any  one  of  their  order  to  give 
his  advice,  but  only  either  to  ratify  or  reject  what  should  be 
propounded  to  them  by  the  king  or  senate.  But  because  it 
fell  out  afterwards  that  the  people,  by  adding  or  omitting 
words,  distorted  and  perverted  the  sense  of  propositions, 
kings  Polydorus  and  Theopompus  inserted  into  the  Rhetra, 
or  grand  covenant,  the  following  clause  : “ That  if  the  people 
decide  crookedly  it  should  be  lawful  for  the  elders  and 
leaders  to  dissolve ; ’’  that  is  to  say,  refuse  ratification,  and 
dismiss  the  people  as  depravers  and  perverters  of  their  coun- 
sel. It  passed  among  the  people,  by  their  management,  as 
being  equally  authentic  with  the  rest  of  the  Rhetra,  as  appears 
by  these  verses  of  Tyrtaeus, — 

These  oracles  they  from  Apollo  heard, 

And  brought  from  Pytho  home  the  perfect  word : 

The  heaven-appointed  kings,  who  love  the  land. 

Shall  foremost  in  the  nation^s  council  stand ; 

The  elders  next  to  them  ; the  commons  last ; 

Let  a straight  Rhetra  among  all  be  passed. 

Although  Lycurgus  had,  in  this  manner,  used  all  the 
qualifications  possible  in  the  constitution  of  his  common- 
wealth, yet  those  who  succeeded  him  found  the  oligarchical 
element  still  too  strong  and  dominant,  and  to  check  its  high 
temper  and  its  violence,  put,  as  Plato  says,  a bit  in  its 
mouth,  which  was  the  power  of  the  ephori,  established  an 
hundred  and  thirty  years  after  the  death  of  Lycurgus.  Elatus 
and  his  colleagues  were  the  first  who  had  this  dignity  con- 
ferred upon  them  in  the  reign  of  king  Theopompus,  who, 
when  his  queen  upbraided  him  one  day  that  he  would  leave 
the  regal  power  to  his  children  less  than  he  had  received  it 
from  his  ancestors,  said  in  answer,  “ No,  greater  ; for  it  will 
last  longer.’^  For,  indeed,  their  prerogative  being  thus  reduced 
within  reasonable  bounds,  the  Spartan  kings  were  at  once 
freed  from  all  further  jealousies  and  consequent  danger,  and 


LYCURGUrt. 


73 


never  experienced  the  calamities  of  their  neighbors  at  Mes- 
sene  and  Argos,  who,  by  maintaining  their  prerogative  too 
strictly,  for  want  of  yielding  a little  to  the  populace,  lost  it  all. 

Indeed,  whosoever  shall  look  at  the  sedition  and  misgov* 
ernmen^  which  befell  these  bordering  nations  to  whom  they 
were  a5  near  related  in  blood  as  situation,  will  find  in  them 
the  best  reason  to  admire  the  wisdom  and  foresight  of 
Lycurgus.  For  these  three  states,  in  their  first  rise,  were 
equal,  or,  if  there  were  any  odds,  they  lay  on  the  side  of  the 
Messenians  and  Argives,  who,  in  the  first  allotment,  were 
thought  to  have  been  luckier  than  the  Spartans  ; yet  was 
their  happiness  of  but  small  continuance,  partly  the  tyran- 
nical temper  of  their  kings  and  partly  the  ungovernableness 
of  the  people  quickly  bringing  upon  them  such  disorders,  and 
so  complete  an  overthrow  of  all  existing  institutions,  as  clearly 
to  show  how  truly  divine  a blessing  the  Spartans  had  had  in 
that  wise  lawgiver  who  gave  their  government  its  happy 
balance  and  temper.  But  of  this  I shall  say  more  in  its  due 
place. 

After  the  creation  of  the  thirty  senators,  his  next  task, 
and,  indeed,  the  most  hazardous  he  ever  undertook,  was  the 
making  a new  division  of  their  lands.  For  there  was  an 
extreme  inequality  amongst  them,  and  their  state  was  over- 
loaded with  a multitude  of  indigent  and  necessitous  persons, 
while  its  whole  wealth  had  centred  upon  a very  few.  To  the 
end,  therefore,  that  he  might  expel  from  the  state  arrogance  and 
envy,  luxury  and  crime,  and  those  yet  more  inveterate  dis- 
eases of  want  and  superfluity,  he  obtained  of  them  to  renounce 
their  properties,  and  to  consent  to  a new  division  of  the 
land,  and  that  they  should  live  all  together  on  an  equal 
footing ; merit  to  be  their  only  road  to  eminence,  and  the 
disgrace  of  evil,  and  credit  of  worthy  acts,  their  one  measure 
of  difference  between  man  and  man. 

Upon  their  consent  to  these  proposals,  proceeding  at  once 
to  put  them  into  execution,  he  divided  the  country  of  Laconia 
in  general  into  thirty  thousand  equal  shares,  and  the  part 
attached  to  the  city  of  Sparta  into  nine  thousand  ; these  he 
distributed  among  the  Spartans,  as  he  did  the  others  to  the 
country  citizens.  Some  authors  say  that  he  made  but  six 
thousand  lots  for  the  citizens  of  Sparta,  and  that  king  Poly- 
dorus  added  three  thousand  more.  Others  say  that  Polydo- 
rus  doubled  the  number  Lycurgus  had  made,  which,  ac- 
cording to  them,  was  but  four  thousand  five  hundred.  A 
lot  was  so  much  as  to  yield,  one  year  with  another,  abou^ 


74 


LYCURGUS. 


seventy  bushels  of  grain  for  the  master  of  the  family,  and 
twelve  for  his  wife,  with  a suitable  proportion  of  oil  and  wine. 
And  this  he  thought  sufficient  to  keep  their  bodies  in  good 
health  and  strength  ; superfluities  they  were  better  without. 
It  is  reported,  that,  as  he  returned  from  a journey  shortly 
after  the  division  of  the  lands,  in  harvest  time,  the  ground 
being  newly  reaped,  seeing  the  stacks  all  standing  equal 
and  alike,  he  smiled,  and  said  to  those  about  him,  Methinks 
all  Laconia  looks  like  one  family  estate  just  divided  among  a 
number  of  brothers/’ 

Not  contented  with  this,  he  resolved  to  make  a division 
of  their  movables  too,  that  there  might  be  no  odious  distinc- 
tion or  inequality  left  amongst  them  ; but  finding  that  it 
would  be  very  dangerous  to  go  about  it  openly,  he  took  an- 
other course,  and  defeated  their  avarice  by  the  following 
stratagem : he  commanded  that  all  gold  and  silver  coin 
should  be  called  in,  and  that  only  a sort  of  money  made  of 
iron  should  be  current,  a great  weight  and  quantity  of  which 
was  very  little  worth  ; so  that  to  lay  up  twenty  or  thirty 
pounds  there  was  required  a pretty  large  closet,  and,  to  re- 
move it,  nothing  less  than  a yoke  of  oxen.  With  the  diffu- 
sion of  this  money,  at  once  a number  of  vices  were  banished 
from  Lacedaemon  ; for  who  would  rob  another  of  such  a 
coin  ? Who  would  unjustly  detain  or  take  by  force,  or  accept 
as  a bribe,  a thing  which  it  was  not  easy  to  hide,  nor  a credit 
to  have,  nor  indeed  of  any  use  to  cut  in  pieces  ? For  when 
it  was  just  red  hot,  they  quenched  it  in  vinegar,  and  by  that 
means  spoilt  it,  and  made  it  almost  incapable  of  being  worked. 

In  the  next  place,  he  declared  an  outlawry  of  all  needless 
and  superfluous  arts ; but  here  he  might  almost  have  spared 
his  proclamation  ; for  they  of  themselves  would  have  gone 
after  the  gold  and  silver,  the  money  which  remained  being 
not  so  proper  payment  for  curious  work  ; for,  being  of  iron, 
it  was  scarcely  portable,  neither,  if  they  should  take  the 
means  to  export  it,  would  it  pass  amongst  the  other  Greeks, 
who  ridiculed  it.  So  there  was  now  no  more  means  of  pur- 
chasing foreign  goods  and  small  wares  ; merchants  sent  no 
shiploads  into  Laconian  ports  ; no  rhetoric-master,  no  itiner- 
ant fortune-teller,  no  harlot-monger,  or  gold  or  silversmith, 
engraver,  or  jeweller,  set  foot  in  a country  which  had  no 
money ; so  that  luxury,  deprived  little  by  little  of  that  which 
fed  and  fomented  it,  wasted  to  nothing  and  died  away  of 
itself.  For  the  rich  had  no  advantage  here  over  the  poor,  as 
their  wealth  and  abundance  had  no  road  to  come  abroad  by^ 


LYCURGUS. 


7S 


but  were  shut  up  at  home  doing  nothing.  And  in  this  way 
they  became  excellent  artists  in  common,  necessary  things  : 
bedsteads,  chairs,  and  tables,  and  such  like  staple  utensils  in  a 
family,  were  admirably  well  made  there  ; their  cup,  particularly, 
was  very  much  in  fashion,  and  eagerly  bought  up  by  soldiers, 
as  Critias  reports ; for  its  color  was  such  as  to  pi  event  water, 
dunk  upon  necessity  and  disagreeable  to  look  at,  from  beinsf 
noticed ; and  the  shape  of  it  was  such  that  the  mud  stuck  to 
the  sides,  so  that  only  the  purer  part  came  to  the  drinker’s 
mouth.  For  this,  also,  they  had  to  thank  their  lawgiver,  who, 
by  relieving  the  artisans  of  the  trouble  of  making  useless 
things,  set  them  to  show  their  skill  in  giving  beauty  to  those 
of  daily  and  indispensable  use. 

The  third  and  most  masterly  stroke  of  this  great  lawgiver, 
by  which  he  struck  a yet  more  effectual  blow  against  luxury 
and  the  desire  of  riches,  was  the  ordinance  he  made,  that 
they  should  all  eat  in  common,  of  the  same  bread  and 
same  meat,  and  of  kinds  that  were  specified,  and  should  not 
spend  their  lives  at  home,  laid  on  costly  couches  at  splendid 
tables,  delivering  themselves  up  into  the  hands  of  their  trades- 
men and  cooks,  to  fatten  them  in  corners,  like  greedy  brutes, 
and  to  ruin  not  their  minds  only  but  their  very  bodies,  which, 
enfeebled  by  indulgence  and  excess,  would  stand  in  need  of 
long  sleep,  warm  bathing,  freedom  from  work,  and,  in  a word, 
of  as  much  care  and  attendance  as  if  they  were  continually 
sick.  It  was  certainly  an  extraordinary  thing  to  have  brought 
about  such  a result  as  this,  but  a greater  yet  to  have  taken 
away  from  wealth,  as  Theophrastus  observes,  not  merely  the 
property  of  being  coveted,  but  its  very  nature  of  being  wealth. 
For  the  rich,  being  obliged  to  go  to  the  same  table  with  the 
poor,  could  not  make  use  of  or  enjoy  their  abundance,  nor  so 
much  as  please  their  vanity  by  looking  at  or  displaying  it. 
So  that  the  common  proverb,  that  Plutus,  the  god  of  riches, 
is  blind,  was  nowhere  in  all  the  world  literally  verified  but  in 
Sparta.  There,  indeed,  he  was  not  only  blind,  but  like  a pic- 
ture, without  either  life  or  motion.  Ilor  were  they  allowed 
to  take  food  at  home  first,  and  then  attend  the  public  tables, 
for  every  one  had  an  eye  upon  those  who  did  not  eat  and 
drink  like  the  rest,  and  reproached  them  with  being  dainty 
and  effeminate. 

This  last  ordinance  in  particular  exasperated  the  wealthier 
men.  They  collected  in  a body  against  Lycurgus,  and  from 
ill  words  came  to  throwing  stones,  so  that  at  length  he  was 
forced  to  run  out  of  the  market-place,  and  make  to  sanctuary 


76 


LYCURGUS. 


to  save  his  life  ; by  good-hap  he  outran  all,  excepting  one  Al- 
cander,  a young  man  otherwise  not  ill  accomplished,  but  hasty 
and  violent,  who  came  up  so  close  to  him,  that  when  he  turned 
to  see  who  was  so  near  him,  he  struck  him  upon  the  face  with 
his  stick,  and  put  out  one  of  his  eyes.  Lycurgus,  so  far  from 
being  daunted  and  discouraged  by  this  accident,  stopped  short 
and  showed  his  disfigured  face  and  eye  beat  out  to  his  country- 
men ; they,  dismayed  and  ashamed  at  the  sight,  delivered  Al« 
cander  into  his  hands  to  be  punished,  and  escorted  him  home, 
with  expressions  of  great  concern  for  his  ill  usage.  Lycurgus, 
havdng  thanked  them  for  their  care  of  his  person,  dismissed 
them  all,  excepting  only  Alcander  ; and,  taking  him  with  him 
into  his  house,  neither  did  nor  said  any  thing  severely  to  him, 
but,  dismissing  those  whose  place  it  was,  bade  Alcander  to 
wait  upon  him  at  table.  The  young  man,  who  was  of  an  in- 
genuous temper,  without  murmuring  did  as  he  was  command- 
ed; and  being  thus  admitted  to  live  with  Lycurgus,  he  had  an 
opportunity  to  observe  in  him,  besides  his  gentleness  and  calm- 
ness of  temper,  an  extraordinary  sobriety  and  an  indefatigable 
industry,  and  so,  from  an  enemy,  became  one  of  his  most  zeal- 
ous admirers,  and  told  his  friends  and  relations  that  Lycurgus 
was  not  that  morose  and  ill-natured  man  they  had  formerly 
taken  him  for,  but  the  one  mild  and  gentle  character  of  the 
world.  And  thus  did  Lycurgus,  for  chastisement  of  his  fault, 
make  of  a wild  and  passionate  young  man  one  of  the  dis- 
creetest  citizens  of  Sparta. 

In  memory  of  this  accident,  Lycurgus  built  a temple  to 
Minerva,  surnamed  Optiletis ; oJfh'/ushQingthe  Doric  of  these 
parts  for  ophthalmiis^  the  eye.  Some  authors,  however,  of 
whom  Dioscorides  is  one  (who  wrote  a treatise  on  the  com- 
monwealth of  Sparta),  say  that  he  was  wounded,  indeed,  but 
did  not  lose  his  eye  with  the  blow ; and  that  he  built  the  tem- 
ple in  gratitude  for  the  cure.  Be  this  as  it  will,  certain  it  is, 
that,  after  this  misadventure,  the  Lacedaemonians  made  it  a 
rule  never  to  carry  so  much  as  a staff  into  their  public  assem- 
blies. 

But  to  return  to  their  public  repasts  ; — these  had  several 
names  in  Greek  ; the  Cretans  called  a^idria^  because  the 
men  only  came  to  them.  The  Lacedaemonians  called  them 
phiditia^  that  is,  by  changing  / into  d^  the  same  as  philitia^  love 
feasts,  because  that,  by  eating  and  drinking  together,  they  had 
opportunity  of  making  friends.  Or  perhaps  from  phido^  pa>" 
simony,  because  they  were  so  many  schools  of  sobriety  \ or 
perhaps  the  first  letter  is  an  addition,  and  the  word  at  first 


LYCURGUS. 


77 


was  editia,  from  edode^  eating.  They  met  by  companies  oi 
fifteen,  more  or  less,  and  each  of  them  stood  bound  to  bring  in 
monthly  a bushel  of  meal,  eight  gallons  of  wine,  five  pounds 
of  cheese,  two  pounds  and  a half  of  figs,  and  some  very  small 
sum  of  money  to  buy  flesh  or  fish  with.  Besides  this,  when 
any  of  them  made  sacrifice  to  the  gods,  they  always  sent  a 
dole  to  the  common  hall ; and,  likewise,  when  any  of  then? 
had  been  a hunting,  he  sent  thither  a part  of  the  venison,  he 
h;id  killed : for  these  two  occasions  were  the  only  excuses  al- 
lowed tor  supping  at  home.  The  custom  of  eating  together 
was  observed  strictly  for  a great  while  afterwards  \ insomuch 
thai  king  Agis  himself,  after  having  vanquished  the  Atheni- 
ans, sending  for  his  commons  at  his  return  home,  because  he 
desi.ed  to  eat  privately  with  his  .queen,  was  refused  them  by 
the  polemarchs ; which  refusal  when  he  resented  so  lAuch  as 
to  omit  next  day  the  sacrifice  due  for  a war  happily  ended, 
they  made  him  pay  a fine. 

They  used  to  send  their  children  to  these  tables  as  to 
schools  of  temperance ; here  they  were  instructed  in  state 
affairs  by  listening  to  experienced  statesmen  ; here  they  learnt 
to  converse  with  pleasantry,  to  make  jests  without  scurrility, 
and  take  them  without  ill  humor.  In  this  point  of  good 
breeding,  the  Lacedaemonians  excelled  particularly,  but  if  any 
* man  were  uneasy  under  it,  upon  the  least  hint  given,  there 
was  no  more  to  be  said  to  him.  It  was  customary  also  for  the 
eldest  man  in  the  company  to  say  to  each  of  them,  as  they 
came  in,  “Through  this’’  (pointing  to  the  door),  “no  words 
go  out.”  When  any  one  had  a desire  to  be  admitted  into  any 
of  these  little  societies,  he  was  to  go  through  the  following 
probation  : each  man  in  the  company  took  a little  ball  of  soft 
bread,  which  they  were  to  throw  into  a deep  basin,  which  a 
waiter  carried  round  upon  his  head ; those  that  liked  the  per- 
son to  be  chosen  dropped  their  ball  into  the  basin  without 
altering  its  figure,  and  those  who  disliked  him  pressed  it  be- 
twixt their  fingers,  and  made  it  flat ; and  this  signified  as  much 
as  a negative  voice.  And  if  there  were  but  one  of  these  flat- 
tened pieces  in  the  basin,  the  suitor  was  rejected,  so  desirous 
were  they  that  all  the  members  of  the  company  should  be 
agreeable  to  each  other.  The  basin  was  called  caddichus^ 
and  the  rejected  candidate  had  a name  thence  derived. 
Their  most  famous  dish  was  the  black  broth,  which  was  so 
much  valued  that  the  elderly  men  fed  only  upon  that,  leaving 
what  flesh  there  was  to  the  younger. 

They  say  that  a certain  king  of  Pontus,  having  heard  much 


LYCURGUS. 


7S 

of  this  black  broth  of  theirs,  sent  for  a Lacedaemonian  cook  on 
purpose  to  make  him  some,  but  had  no  sooner  tasted  it  than 
he  found  it  extremely  bad,  which  the  cook  observing,  told  him, 
“ Sir,  to  make  this  broth  relish,  you  should  have  bathed  your- 
self first  in  the  river  Eurotas/’ 

After  drinking  moderatel)^,  every  man  went  to  his  home 
without  lights,  for  the  use  of  them  vras,  on  all  occasions,  for- 
bid, to  die  end  that  they  might  accustom  themselves  to  march 
boldly  in  the  dark.  Such  was  thecommon  fashion  of  their  meals. 

Lycurgus  would  never  reduce  his  laws  into  writing;  nay 
there  is  a Rhetra  expressly  to  forbid  it.  For  he  thought  that 
the  most  material  points,  and  such  as  most  directly  tended  to 
the  public  welfare,  being  imprinted  on  the  hearts  of  their 
youth  by  a good  discipline,  would  be  sure  to  remain,  and  would 
find  a Stronger  security,  than  any  compulsion  would  be,  in  the 
principles  of  action  formed  in  them  by  their  best  lawgiver, 
education.  And  as  for  things  of  lesser  importance,  as  pecu- 
niary contracts,  and  such  like,  the  forms  of  which  have  to  be 
changed  as  occasion  requires,  he  thought  it  the  best  way  to 
prescribe  no  positive  rule  or  inviolable  usage  in  such  cases, 
willing  that  their  manner  and  form  should  be  altered  accord- 
ing to  the  circumstances  of  time,  and  determinations  of 
men  of  sound  judgment.  Every  end  and  object  of  law  and 
enactment  it  was  his  design  education  should  effect. 

One,  then,  of  the  Rhetras  was,  that  their  laws  should  not 
be  written  ; another  is  particularly  levelled  against  luxury 
and  expensiveness,  for  by  it  it  was  ordained  that  the  ceilings 
of  their  houses  should  only  be  wrought  by  the  axe,  and  their 
gates  and  doors  smoothed  only  by  the  saw.  Epaminondas's 
famous  dictum  about  his  own  table,  that  “Treason  and  a 
dinner  like  this  do  not  keep  company  together,’^  may  be  said 
to  have  been  anticipated  by  Lycurgus.  Luxury  and  a house 
of  this  kind  could  not  well  be  companions.  For  a man  must 
have  a less  than  ordinary  share  of  sense  that  would  furnish 
such  plain  and  common  rooms  with  silver-footed  couches  and 
purple  coverlets  and  gold  and  silver  plate.  Doubtless  he 
had  good  reason  to  think  that  they  would  proportion  their 
beds  to  their  houses,  and  their  coverlets  to  their  beds,  and 
the  rest  of  their  goods  and  furniture  to  these.  It  is  reported 
that  king  Leotychides,  the  first  of  that  name,  was  so  little 
used  to  the  sight  of  any  other  kind  of  work,  that,  being  enter- 
tained at  Corinth  in  a stately  room,  he  was  much  surprised 
to  see  the  timber  and  ceiling  so  finely  carved  and  panelled 
and  asked  his  host  whether  the  trees  grew  so  in  his  country. 


LYCURGUS. 


79 


A third  ordina.Qce  or  Rhetra  was,  that  they  should  not 
make  war  often,  or  long,  with  the  same  enemy,  lest  that  they 
should  train  and  instruct  them  in  war,  by  habituating  them 
to  defend  themselves.  And  this  is  what  Agesilaus  was  much 
blamed  for,  a long  time  after  ; it  being  thought,  that,  by  his 
continual  incursions  into  Boeotia,  he  made  the  Thebans  a 
match  for  the  Lacedaemonians  ; and  therefore  Antalcidas, 
seeing  him  wounded  one  day,  said  to  him,  that  he  was  very 
well  paid  for  taking  such  pains  to  make  the  Thebans  good 
soldiers,  whether  they  would  or  no.  These  laws  were  called 
the  Rhetras,  to  intimate  that  they  were  divine  sanctions  and 
revelations. 

In  order  to  the  good  education  of  their  youth  (which,  as 
I said  before,  he  thought  the  most  important  and  noblest 
work  of  a lawgiver),  he  went  so  far  back  as  to  take  into  con- 
sideration their  very  conception  and  birth,  by  regulating  their 
marriages.  For  Aristotle  is  wrong  in  saying,  that,  after  he 
had  tried  all  ways  to  reduce  the  women  to  more  modesty  and 
sobriety,  he  was  at  last  forced  to  leave  them  as  they  were, 
because  that  in  the  absence  of  their  husbands,  who  spent  the 
best  part  of  their  lives  in  the  wars,  their  wives,  whom  they 
were  obliged  to  leave  absolute  mistresses  at  home,  took  great 
liberties  and  assumed  the  superiority ; and  were  treated  with 
overmuch  respect  and  called  by  the  title  of  lady  or  queen. 
The  truth  is,  he  took  in  their  case,  also,  all  the  care  that  was 
possible ; he  ordered  the  maidens  to  exercise  themselves  with 
wrestling,  running,  throwing  the  quoit,  and  casting  the  dart, 
to  the  end  that  the  fruit  they  conceived  might,  in  strong  and 
healthy  bodies,  take  firmer  root  and  find  better  growth,  and 
withal  that  they,  with  this  greater  vigor,  might  be  the  more 
able  to  undergo  the  pains  of  child-bearing.  And  to  the  end 
he  might  take  away  their  over-great  tenderness  and  fear  of 
exposure  to  the  air,  and  all  acquired  womanishness,  he  or- 
dered that  the  young  women  should  go  naked  in  the  proces- 
sions, as  well  as  the  young  men,  and  dance,  too,  in  that  con- 
dition, at  certain  solemn  feasts,  singing  certain  songs,  whilst 
the  young  men  stood  around,  seeing  and  hearing  them.  On 
these  occasions,  they  now  and  then  made,  by  jests,  a befitting 
reflection  upon  those  who  had  misbehaved  themselves  in  the 
wars  ; and  again  sang  encomiums  upon  those  who  had  done 
any  gallant  action,  and  by  these  means  inspired  the  younger 
sort  with  an  emulation  of  their  glory.  Those  that  were  thus 
commended  went  away  proud,  elated,  and  gratified  with  their 
honor  among  the  maidens ; and  those  who  were  rallied  were 


8o 


LYCURGUS. 


as  sensibly  touched  with  it  as  if  they  had  been  formally  repri 
manded  ; and  so  much  the  more,  because  the  kings  and  the 
elders,  as  well  as  the  rest  of  the  city,  saw  and  heard  all  that 
passed.  Nor  was  there  any  thing  shameful  in  this  nakedness 
of  the  young  women ; modesty  attended  them,  and  ail  wan- 
tonness was  excluded.  It  taught  them  simplicity  and  a care 
for  good  health,  and  gave  them  some  taste  of  higher  feelings, 
admitted  as  they  thus  were  to  the  field  of  noble  action  and 
glory.  Hence  it  was  natural  for  them  to  think  and  speak  as 
Gorgo,  for  example,  the  wife  Leonidas,  is  said  to  have  done, 
when  some  foreign  lady,  as  it  would  seem,  told  her  that  the 
women  of  Lacedaemon  were  the  only  women  in  the  world 
who  could  rule  men;  ‘‘With  good  reason,”  she  said,  “for 
we  are  the  only  women  who  bring  forth  men,” 

These  public  processions  of  the  maidens,  and  their  ap- 
pearing naked  in  their  exercises  and  dancings,  were  incite- 
ments to  marriage,  operating  upon  the  young  with  the  rigor 
and  certainty,  as  Plato  says,  of  love,  if  not  of  mathematics. 
But  besides  all  this,  to  promote  it  yet  more  effectually,  those 
who  continued  bachelors  were  in  a degree  disfranchised  by 
law ; for  they  were  excluded  from  the  sight  of  those  public 
processions  in  which  the  young  men  and  maidens  danced 
naked,  and,  in  winter-time,  the  officers  compelled  them  to 
march  naked  themselves  round  the  market-place,  singing  as 
they  went  a certain  song  to  their  own  disgrace,  that  they  justly 
suffered  this  punishment  for  disobeying  the  laws.  Moreover, 
they  were  denied  that  respect  and  observance  which  the 
younger  men  paid  their  elders  ; and  no  man,  for  example, 
found  fault  with  what  was  said  to  Dercyllidas,  though  so  emi- 
nent a commander ; upon  whose  approach  one  day,  a young 
man,  instead  of  rising,  retained  his  seat,  remarking,  “ No 
child  of  yours  will  make  room  for  me.” 

In  their  marriages,  the  husband  carried  off  his  bride  by  a 
sort  of  force  ; nor  were  their  brides  ever  small  and  of  tender 
years,  but  in  their  full  bloom  and  ripeness.  After  this,  she 
who  superintended  the  wedding  comes  and  clips  the  hair  of 
the  bride  close  round  her  head,  dresses  her  up  in  man’s 
clothes,  and  leaves  her  upon  a mattress  in  the  dark  ; after- 
wards comes  the  bridegroom,  in  his  every-day  clothes,  sober 
and  composed,  as  having  supped  at  the  common  table,  and, 
entering  privately  into  the  room  where  the  bride  lies,  unties 
her  virgin  zone,  and  takes  her  to  himself ; and,  after  staying 
some  time  together,  he  returns  composedly  to  his  own  apart- 
merit,  to  sleep  as  usual  with  the  other  young  men.  And  so 


LYCUR0US. 


8i 


he  continues  to  do,  spending  his  days,  and,  indeed,  his  nights 
with  them,  visiting  his  bride  in  fear  and  shame,  and  with 
circumspection,  when  he  thought  he  should  not  be  observed ; 
she,  also,  on  her  part,  using  her  wit  to  help  and  find  favorable 
opportunities  for  their  meeting,  when  company  was  out  of 
the  way.  In  this  manner  they  lived  a long  time,  insomuch 
that  they  sometimes  had  children  by  their  wives  before  ever 
they  saw  their  faces  by  daylight.  Their  interviews,  being 
thus  difficult  and  rare,  served  not  only  for  continual  exercise 
of  their  self-control,  but  brought  them  together  with  their 
bodies  healthy  and  vigorous,  and  their  affections  fresh  and 
lively,  unsated  and  undulled  by  easy  access  and  long  con- 
tinuance with  each  other;  while  their  partings  were  always 
early  enough  to  leave  behind  unextinguished  in  each  of  them 
some  remainder  fire  of  longing  and  mutual  delight.  After 
guarding  marriage  with  this  modesty  and  reserve,  he  was 
equally  careful  to  banish  empty  and  womamsn  jealousy.  For 
this  object,  excluding  all  licentious  disorders,  he  made  it, 
nevertheless,  honorable  for  men  to  give  the  use  of  their  wives 
to  those  whom  they  should  think  fit,  that  so  they  might  have 
children  by  them ; ridiculing  those  in  whose  opinion  such  fa- 
vors are  so  unfit  for  participation  as  to  fight  and  shed  blood 
and  go  to  war  about  it.  Lycurgus  allowed  a man  who  was 
advanced  in  years  and  had  a young  wife  to  recommend  some 
virtuous  and  approved  young  man,  that  she  might  have  a 
child  by  him,  who  might  inherit  the  good  qualities  of  the 
father,  and  be  a son  to  himself.  On  the  other  side,  an  honest 
man  who  had  love  for  a married  woman  upon  account  of  her 
modesty  and  the  well-favoredness  of  her  children,  might, 
without  formality,  beg  her  company  of  her  husband,  that  he 
might  raise,  as  it  were,  from  this  plot  of  good  ground,  worthy 
and  well-allied  children  for  himself.  And  indeed,  Lycurgus 
was  of  a persuasion  that  children  were  not  so  much  the  prop- 
erty of  their  parents  as  of  the  whole  commonwealth,  and, 
therefore,  would  not  have  his  citizens  begot  by  the  first- 
comers,  but  by  the  best  men  that  could  be  found ; the  laws 
of  other  nations  seemed  to  him  very  absurd  and  inconsistent, 
where  people,  would  be  so  solicitous  for  their  dogs  and  horses 
as  to  exert  interest  and  to  pay  money  to  procure  fine  breed- 
ing, and  yet  kept  their  wives  shut  up,  to  be  made  mothers 
only  by  themselves,  who  might  be  foolish,  infirm,  or  diseased ; 
as  if  it  were  not  apparent  that  children  of  a bad  breed  would 
prove  their  bad  qualities  first  upon  those  who  kept  and  were 
rearing  them,  and  well-born  children,  in  like  manner,  ih^ 


*2 


LYGURGUS. 


good  qualities.  These  regulations,-  founded  on  natural  and 
social  grounds,  were  certainly  so  far  from  that  scandalous 
liberty  which  was  afterwards  charged  upon  their  women, 
that  they  knew  not  what  adultery  meant.  It  is  told,  for  in- 
stance, of  Geradas,  a very  ancient  Spartan,  that,  being  asked 
by  a stranger  what  punishment  their  law  had  appointed  for 
adulterers,  he  answered,  There  are  no  adulterers  in  our 
country.’^  “ But,’’  replied  the  stranger,  “ suppose  there 
were  ? ” Then,”  answered  he,  the  offender  would  have 
to  give  the  plaintiff  a bull  with  a neck  so  long  as  that  he 
might  drink  from  the  top  of  Taygetus  of  the  Eurotas  river 
below  it.”  The  man,  surprised  at  this,  said,  Why,  ’tis  im- 
possible to  find  such  a bull.”  Geradas  smilingly  replied, 
“ ’Tis  as  possible  as  to  find  an  adulterer  in  Sparta.”  So  much 
I had  to  say  of  their  marriages. 

Nor  was  it.  in  the  power  of  the  father  to  dispose  of  the 
child  as  he  thought  fit ; he  was  obliged  to  carry  it  before  cer- 
tain triers  at  a place  called  Lesche ; these  were  some  of  the 
elders  of  the  tribe  to  which  the  child  belonged  ; their  busi- 
ness it  was  carefully  to  view  the  infant,  and,  if  they  found  it 
stout  and  well  made,  they  gave  order  for  its  rearing,  and  al- 
lotted to  it  one  of  the  nine  thousand  shares  of  land  above 
mentioned  for  its  maintenance,  but,  if  they  found  it  puny  and 
ill-shaped,  ordered  it  to  be  taken  to  what  was  called  the 
Apothetas,  a sort  of  chasm  under  Taygetus ; as  thinking  it 
neither  for  the  good  of  the  child  itself,  nor  for  the  public  in- 
terest, that  it  should  be  brought  up,  if  it  did  not,  from  the 
very  outset,  appear  made  to  be  healthy  and  vigorous.  Upon 
the  same  account,  the  women  did  not  bathe  the  new-born 
children  with  water,  as  is  the  custom  in  all  other  countries, 
but  with  wine,  to  prove  the  temper  and  complexion  of  their 
bodies  ; from  a notion  they  had  that  epileptic  and  weakly 
children  faint  and  waste  away  upon  their  being  thus  bathed, 
while,  on  the  contrary,  those  of  a strong  and  vigorous  habit 
acquire  firmness  and  get  a temper  by  it,  like  steel.  There 
was  much  care  and  art,  too,  used  by  the  nurses  ; they  had  no 
swaddling  bands  ; the  children  grew  up  free  and  uncon- 
strained in  limb  and  form,  and  not  dainty  and  fanciful  about 
their  food  ; not  afraid  in  the  dark,  or  of  being  left  alone  ; 
and  without  peevishness,  or  ill-humor  or  crying.  Upon  this 
account,  Spartan  nurses  were  often  bought  up,  or  hired  by 
people  of  other  countries  ; and  it  is  recorded  that  she  who 
suckled  Alcibiades  was  a Spartan  ; who,  however,  if  fortunate 
in  his  nurse,  was  not  so  in  his  preceptor ; his  guardian,  Peri- 


LYCURGUS.  83 

cles,  as  Plato  telfs  us,  chose  a servant  for  that  ofBce  called 
Zopyrus,  no  better  than  any  common  slave. 

Lycurgus  was  of  another  mind  ; he  would  not  have  mas- 
ters bought  out  of  the  market  for  his  young  Spartans,  nor 
such  as  should  sell  their  pains  ; nor  was  it  lawful,  indeed,  for 
the  father  himself  to  breed  up  the  children  after  his  own 
fancy ; but  as  soon  as  they  were  seven  years  old  they  were  to 
be  enrolled  in  certain  companies  and  classes,  where  they  all 
lived  under  the  same  order  and  discipline,  doing  their  exer- 
cises and  taking  their  play  together.  Of  these,  he  who 
showed  the  most  conduct  and  courage  was  made  captain , 
they  had  their  eyes  always  upon  him,  obeyed  his  orders,  and 
underwent  patiently  whatsoever  punishment  he  inflicted ; so 
that  the  whole  course  of  their  education  was  one  continued 
exercise  of  a ready  and  perfect  obedience.  The  old  men, 
too,  were  spectators  of  their  performances,  and  often  raised 
quarrels  and  disputes  among  them,  to  have  a good  opportu- 
nity of  finding  out  their  different  characters,  and  of  seeing 
which  would  be  valiant,  which  a coward,  when  they  should 
come  to  more  dangerous  encounters.  Reading  and  writing 
they  gave  them,  just  enough  to  serve  their  turn  ; their  chief 
care  was  to  make  them  good  subjects,  and  to  teach  them  to 
endure  pain  and  conquer  in  battle.  To  this  end,  as  they 
grew  in  years,  their  discipline  was  proportionately  increased; 
their  heads  were  close-clipped,  they  were  accustomed  to  go 
barefoot,  and  for  the  most  part  to  play  naked. 

After  they  were  twelve  years  old,  they  were  no  longer  al- 
lowed to  wear  any  undergarment ; they  had  one  coat  to  serve 
them  a year;  their  bodies  were  hard  and  dry,  with  but  little 
acquaintance  of  baths  and  unguents  ; these  human  indul- 
gences they  were  allowed  only  on  some  few  particular  days 
in  the  year.  They  lodged  together  in  little  bands  upon  beds 
made  of  the  rushes  which  grew  by  the  banks  of  the  river 
Eurotas,  which  they  were  to  break  off  with  their  hands  with- 
out a knife  ; if  it  were  winter,  they  mingled  some  thistle- 
down with  their  rushes,  which  it  was  thought  had  the  prop- 
erty  of  giving  warmth.  By  the  time  they  were  come  to  this 
age  there  was  not  any  of  the  more  hopeful  boys  who  had  not 
a lover  to  bear  him  company.  The  old  men,  too,  had  an  eye 
upon  them,  coming  often  to  the  grounds  to  hear  and  see 
them  contend  either  in  wit  or  strength  with  one  another,  and 
this  as  seriously  and  with  as  much  concern  as  if  they  were 
their  fathers,  their  tutors,  or  their  magistrates  ; so  that  there 
scarcely  was  any  time  or  place  without  some  one  present  td 


84 


LYCURGUS. 


put  them  in  mind  of  their  duty,  and  punish  them  if  they  had 
neglected  it. 

Besides  all  this,  there  was  always  one  of  the  best  and 
honestest  men  in  the  city  appointed  to  undertake  the  charge 
and  governance  of  them ; he  again  arranged  them  into  their 
several  bands,  and  set  over  each  of  them  for  their  captain 
the  most  temperate  and  boldest  of  those  they  called  Irens,  who 
were  usually  twenty  years  old,  two  years  out  of  the  boys  ; 
and  the  oldest  of  the  boys,  again,  were  Mell-Irens,  as  much 
as  to  say,  who  would  shortly  be  men.  This  young  man, 
therefore,  was  their  captain  when  they  fought  and  their  mas- 
ter at  home,  using  them  for  the  offices  of  his  house  ; sending 
the  eldest  of  them  to  fetch  wood,  and  the  weaker  and  less 
able,  to  gather  salads  and  herbs,  and  these  they  must  either 
go  without  or  steal ; which  they  did  by  creeping  into  the 
gardens,  or  conveying  themselves  cunningly  and  closely  into 
the  eating-houses  ; if  they  were  taken  in  the  fact,  they  were 
whipped  without  mercy,  for  thieving  so  ill  and  awkwardly 
They  stole,  too,  all  other  meat  they  could  lay  thei-r  hands  on, 
looking  out  and  watching  all  opportunities,  when  people  were 
asleep  or  more  careless  than  usual.  If  they  were  caught, 
they  were  not  only  punished  with  whipping,  but  hunger,  too, 
being  reduced  to  their  ordinary  allowance,  which  was  but 
very  slender,  and  so  contrived  on  purpose,  that  they  might 
set  about  to  help  themselves,  and  be  forced  to  exercise  their 
energy  and  address.  This  was  the  principal  design  of  their 
hard  fare  ; there  was  another  not  inconsiderable,  that  they 
might  grow  taller ; for  the  vital  spirits,  not  being  overbur- 
dened and  oppressed  by  too  great  a quantity  of  nourish- 
ment, which  necessarily  discharges  itself  into  thickness  and 
breadth,  do,  by  their  natural  lightness,  rise ; and  the  body, 
giving  and  yielding  because  it  is  plaint,  grows  in  height.  The 
same  thing  seems,  also,  to  conduce  to  beauty  of  shape ; a 
dry  and  lean  habit  is  a better  subject  for  nature’s  configuia* 
tiori,  which  the  gross  and  over-fed  are  too  heavy  to  submit  to 
properly.  Just  as  we  find  that  women  who  take  physic  whilst 
they  are  with  child,  bear  leaner  and  smaller  but  better- 
shaped and  prettier  children  ; the  material  they  come  of 
having  been  more  pliable  and  easily  moulded.  The  reason, 
however,  I leave  others  to  determine. 

To  return  from  whence  we  have  digressed.  So  seriously 
did  the  Lacedaemonian  children  go  about  their  stealing,  that 
a youth,  having  stolen  a young  fox  and  hid  it  under  his  coat, 
suffered  it  to  tear  out  his  very  bowels  with  its  teeth  and  claw^ 


LYCURGUS. 


8s 


and  died  upon  the  place,  rather  than  let  it  be  seen.  What  is 
practised  to  this  very  clay  in  Lacedaemon  is  enough  to  gain 
credit  to  this  story,  for  I myself  have  seen  several  of  the 
youths  endure  whipping  to  death  at  the  foot  of  the  altar  of 
Diana  surnamed  Orthia. 

The  Iren,  or  under-master,  used  to  stay  a little  with  them 
after  supper,  and  one  of  them  he  bade  to  sing  a song,  to 
another  he  put  a question  which  required  an  advised  and  de- 
liberate answer  ; for  example.  Who  was  the  best  man  in  the 
city?  What  he  thought  of  such  an  action  of  such  a man? 
They  used  them  thus  early  to  pass  a right  judgment  upon 
persons  and  things,  and  to  inform  themselves  of  the  abilities 
or  defects  of  their  countrymen.  If  they  had  not  an  answer 
ready  to  the  question.  Who  was  a good  or  who  an  ill-reputed 
citizen,  they  were  looked  upon  as  of  a dull  and  careless  dis- 
position, and  to  have  little  or  no  sense  of  virtue  and  honor ; 
besides  this,  they  were  to  give  a good  reason  for  what  they 
said,  and  in  as  few  words  and  as  comprehensive  as  might  be  ; 
he  that  failed  of  this,  or  answered  not  to  the  purpose,  had 
his  thumb  bit  by  the  master.  Sometimes  the  Iren  did  this  in 
the  presence  of  the  old  men  and  magistrates,  that  they  might 
see  whether  he  punished  them  justly  and  in  due  measure  or 
not,  and  when  he  did  amiss,  they  would  not  reprove  him  be- 
fore the  boys,  but,  when  they  were  gone,  he  was  called  to  an 
account  and  underwent  correction,  if  he  had  run  far  into 
either  of  the  extremes  of  indulgence  or  severity. 

Their  lovers  and  favorers,  too,  had  a share  in  the  young 
boy’s  honor  or  disgrace  ; and  there  goes  a story  that  one  of 
them  was  fined  by  the  magistrate,  because  the  lad  whom  he 
loved  cried  out  effeminately  as  he  was  fighting.  And  though 
this  sort  of  love  was  so  approved  among  them,  that  the  most 
virtuous  matrons  would  make  professions  of  it  to  young  girls, 
yet  rivalry  did  not  exist,  and  if  several  men’s  fancies  met  in 
one  person,  it  was  rather  the  beginning  of  an  intimate  friend- 
ship, whilst  they  all  jointly  conspired  to  render  the  object  of 
their  affection  as  accomplished  as  possible. 

They  taught  them,  also,  to  speak  with  a natural  and 
graceful  raillery,  and  to  comprehend  much  matter  of  thought 
in  few  words.  For  Lycurgus,  who  ordered,  a®  >e  saw,  that  a 
great  piece  of  money  should  be  but  of  an  inconsiderable 
value,  on  the  contrary  would  allow  no  discourse  to  be  current 
which  did  not  contain  in  few  words  a great  deal  of  useful  and 
curious  sense ; children  in  Sparta,  by  a habit  of  long  silence, 
came  to  give  just  and  sententious  answers ; for,  indeed,  as 


86 


LYCURGUS. 


loose  and  incontinent  livers  are  seldom  fathers  of  many  chil< 
dren,  so  loose  and  incontinent  talkers  seldom  originate  many 
sensible  words.  King  Agis,  when  some  Athenian  laughed 
at  their  short  swords,  and  said  that  the  jugglers  on  the  stage 
swallowed  them  with  ease,  answered  him.  “ We  find  them 
long  enough  to  reach  our  enemies  with  ; ” and  as  their  swords 
were  short  and  sharp,  so,  it  seems  to  me,  were  their  sayings. 
Ihey  reach  the  point  and  arrest  the  attention  of  the  hearers 
better  than  any.  Lycurgus  himself  seems  to  have  been  short 
and  sententious,  if  we  may  trust  the  anecdotes  of  him  ; as 
appears  by  his  answer  to  one  who  by  all  means  would  set  up 
a democracy  in  Lacedaemon.  “ Begin,  friend,’^  said  he,  ‘‘and 
set  it  up  in  your  family.’’  Another  asked  him  why  he  allowed 
of  such  mean  and  trivial  sacrifices  to  the  gods.  He  replied, 
“ That  we  may  always  have  something  to  offer  to  them.” 
Being  asked  what  sort  of  martial  exercises  or  combats  he  ap- 
proved of,  he  answered,  “ All  sorts,  except  that  in  which  you 
stretch  out  your  hands.”  Similar  answers,  addressed  to  his 
countrymen  by  letter,  are  ascribed  to  him  ; as,  being  con- 
sulted how  they  might  best  oppose  an  invasion  of  their  ene- 
mies, he  returned  this  answer,  “ By  continuing  poor,  and  not 
coveting  each  man  to  be  greater  than  his  fellow.”  Being 
consulted  again  whether  it  were  requisite  to  enclose  the  - city 
with  a wall,  he  sent  them  word,  “ The  city  is  well  fortified 
which  hath  a wall  of  men  instead  of  brick.”  But  whether 
these  letters  are  counterfeit  or  not  is  not  easy  to  determine. 

Of  their  dislike  to  talkativeness,  the  following  apophthegms 
are  evidence.  King  Leonidas  said  to  one  who  held  him  in 
discourse  upon  some  useful  matter,  but  not  in  due  time  and 
place,  “ Much  to  the  purpose.  Sir,  elsewhere.”  King  Chari- 
laus,  the  nephew  of  Lycurgus,  being  asked  why  his  uncle  had 
made  so  few  laws,  answered,  “ Men  of  few  words  require  but 
few  laws.”  When  one  blamed  Hecataeus  the  sophist,  because 
that,  being  invited  to  the  public  table,  he  had  not  spoken  one 
word  all  supper-time,  Archidamidas  answered  in  his  vindica- 
tion, “ He  who  knows  how  to  speak,  knows  also  when” 

The  sharp  and  yet  not  ungraceful  retorts  which  I men  > 
tioned  may  be  instanced  as  follows.  Demaratus,  being  asked 
in  a troubiebCme  manner  by  an  importunate  fellow.  Who  was 
the  best  man  in  Lacedaemon  ? answered  at  last,  “ He,  Sir, 
that  is  the  least  like  you.”  Some,  in  company  where  Agis 
was,  much  extolled  the  Eleans  for  their  just  and  honorable 
management  of  the  Olympic  games  ; “ Indeed,”  said  Agis, 
“ they  are  highly  to  be  commended  if  they  can  do  justice  on€ 


LYCURGUS. 


87 


day  in  five  years.”  Theopompus  answered  a stranger  wtio 
talked  much  of  his  affection  to  the  Lacedaemonians,  and  said 
that  his  countrymen  called  him  Philolacon  (a  lover  of  the 
Lacedaemonians),  that  it  had  been  more  for  his  honor  if  they 
had  called  him  Philopolites  (a  lover  of  his  own  countrymen). 
And  Plistoanax,  the  son  of  Pausanias,  when  an  orator  oi 
Athens  said  the  Lacedaemonians  had  no  learning,  told  him, 
You  say  true.  Sir  ; we  alone  of  all  the  Greeks  have  learned 
none  of  your  bad  qualities.”  One  asked  Archidamidas  what 
number  there  might  be ''of  the  Spartans,  he  answered: 
“ Enough,  Sir,  to  keep  out  wicked  men.” 

We  may  see  their  character,  too,  in  their  very  jests.  For 
they  did  not  throw  them  out  at  random,  but  the  very  wit  of 
them  was  grounded  upon  something  or  other  worth  thinking 
about.  For  instance,  one,  being  asked  to  go  hear  a man  who 
exactly  counterfeited  the  voice  of  a nightingale,  answered, 
‘‘  Sir,  I have  heard  the  nightingale  itself.”  Another,  having 
read  the  following  inscription  upon  a tomb. 

Seeking  to  quench  a cruel  tyranny, 

They,  at  Selinus,  did  in  battle  die, 

said,  it  served  them  right ; for  instead  of  trying  to  quench 
the  tyranny,  they  should  have  let  it  burn  out.  A lad,  being 
offered  some  game-cocks  that  would  die  upon  the  spot,  said 
that  he  cared  not  for  cocks  that  would  die,  but  for  such  that 
would  live  and  kill  others.  Another,  seeing  people  easing 
themselves  on  seats,  said,  “ God  forbid  I should  sit  where  I 
could  not  get  up  to  salute  my  elders.”  In  short,  their  an- 
swers were  so  sententious  and  pertinent,  that  one  said  well 
that  intellectual  much  more  truly  than  athletic  exercise  was 
the  Spartan  characteristic. 

Nor  was  their  instruction  in  music  and  verse  less  carefully 
attended  to  than  their  habits  of  grace  and  good-breeding  in 
conversation.  And  their  very  songs  had  a life  and  spirit  in 
them  that  inflamed  and  possessed  men^s  minds  with  an  enthu- 
jsiasm  and  ardor  for  action  ; the  style  of  them  was  plain  and 
' /;j.thout  affectation  ; the  subject  always  serious  and  moral ; 
most  usually,  it  was  in  praise  of  such  men  as  had  died  in  de- 
fence of  their  country,  or  in  derision  of  those  that  had  been 
cowards  ; the  former  they  declared  happy  and  glorified  ; the 
life  of  the  latter  they  described  as  most  miserable  and  abject. 
There  were  also  vaunts  of  what  they  would  do,  and  boasts  of 
what  they  had  done,  varying  with  the  various  ages,  as,  for 
example,  they  had  three  choirs  in  their  solemn  festivals,  the 


88 


LYCURGUS. 


first  of  the  old  men,  the  second  of  the  young  men,  and  the 
last  of  the  children  ; the  old  men  began  thus  : 

We  once  were  young,  and  brave,  and  strong; 
the  young  men  answered  them,  singing  : 

And  we're  so  now,  come  on  and  try ; 
the  children  came  last  and  said, 

But  we'll  be  strongest  by  and  by. 

Indeed,  if  we  will  take  the  pains  to  consider  their  com* 
positions,  some  of  which  were  still  extant  in  our  days,  and 
the  airs  on  the  flute  to  which  they  marched  when  going  to 
battle,  we  shall  find  that  Terpander  and  Pindar  had  reason 
to  say  that  musing  and  valor  were  allied.  The  first  says  of 
Lacedaemon — 

The  spear  and  song  in  her  do  meet. 

And  Justice  walks  about  her  street ; 

And  Pindar — 

Councils  of  wise  elders  here, 

And  the  young  men's  conquering  spear. 

And  dance,  and  song,  and  joy  appear ; 

both  describing  the  Spartans  as  no  less  musical  than  war- 
like ; in  the  words  of  one  of  their  own  poets — 

With  the  iron  stern  and  sharp. 

Comes  the  playing  on  the  harp. 

For,  indeed,  before  they  engaged  in  battle,  the  king  first 
did  sacrifice  to  the  Muses,  in  all  likelihood  to  put  them  in 
mind  of  the  manner  of  their  education,  and  of  the  judgment 
that  would  be  passed  upon  their  actions,  and  thereby  to  ani- 
mate them  to  the  performance  of  exploits  that  should  deserve 
a record.  At  such  times,  too,  the  Lacedaemonians  abated  a 
little  the  severity  of  their  manners  in  favor  of  iheir  young 
men,  suffering  them  to  curl  and  adorn  their  hair,  and  to  have 
costly  arms,  and  fine  clothes  ; and  were  well  pleased  to  see 
them,  like  proud  horses,  neighing  and  pressing  to  the  course. 
And,  therefore,  as  soon  as  they  came  to  be  well-grown,  they 
took  a great  deal  of  care  of  their  hair,  to  have  it  parted  and 
trimmed,  especially  against  a day  of  battle,  pursuant  to  a 
saying  recorded  of  their  lawgiver,  that  a large  head  of  hair 
added  beauty  to  a good  face,  and  terror  to  an  ugly  one. 

When  they  were  in  the  field,  their  exercises  were  generally 
more  moderate,  their  fare  not  so  hard,  nor  so  strict  a hani 


LYCURGUS. 


89 


held  over  them  by  their  officers,  so  that  they  were  the  only 
people  in  the  world  to  whom  war  gave  repose.  When  their 
army  was  drawn  up  in  battle  array,  and  the  enemy  near,  the 
king  sacrificed  a goat,  commanded  the  soldiers  to  set  their 
garlands  upon  their  heads,  and  the  pipers  to  play  the  tune  of 
the  hymn  to  Castor,  and  himself  began  the  paean  of  advance. 
It  was  at  once  a magnificent  and  a terrible  sight  to  see  them 
march  on  to  the  tune  of  their  flutes,  without  any  disorder  in 
their  ranks,  any  discomposure  in  their  minds,  or  change  in 
their  countenances,  calmly  and  cheerfully  moving  with  toe 
music  to  the  deadly  fight.  Men,  in  this  temper,  were  not 
likely  to  be  possessed  with  fear  or  any  transport  of  fury, 
but  with  the  deliberate  valor  of  hope  and  assurance,  as  if 
some  divinity  were  attending  and  conducting  them.  The  king 
had  always  about  his  person  some  one  who  had  been  crowned 
in  the  Olympic  games ; and  upon  this  account  a Lace- 
daemonian is  said  to  have  refused  a considerable  present, 
which  was  offered  to  him  upon  condition  that  he  would  not 
come  into  the  lists  ; and  when  he  had  with  much  to-do  thrown 
his  antagonist,  some  of  the  spectators  saying  to  him,  ‘‘  And 
now,  Sir  Lacedaemonian,  what  are  you  the  better  for  your 
victory  ? ’’  he  answered,  smiling,  I shall  fight  next  the  king.’’ 
After  they  had  routed  an  enemy,  they  pursued  him  till  they 
were  well  assured  of  the  victory,  and  then  they  sounded  a re- 
treat, thinking  it  base  and  unworthy  of  a Grecian  people  to 
cut  men  in  pieces,  who  had  given  up  and  abandoned  all  re- 
sistance. This  manner  of  dealing  with  their  enemies  did  not 
only  show  magnanimity,  but  was  politic  too  ; for,  knowing 
that  they  killed  only  those  who  made  resistance,  and  gave 
quarter  to  the  rest,  men  generally  thought  it  their  best  way  to 
consult  their  safety  by  flight. 

Hippius  the  sophist  says  that  Lycurgus  himself  was  a great 
soldier  and  an  experienced  commander.  Philostephanus  at- 
tributes to  him  the  first  division  of  the  cavalry  into  troops  of 
fifties  in  a square  body  ; but  Demetrius  the  Phaleriari  says 
quite  the  contrary,  and  that  he  made  all  his  laws  in  a con- 
tinued peace.  And,  indeed,  the  Olympic  holy  truce,  or  ces- 
sation of  arms,  that  was  procured  by  his  means  and  manage- 
ment, inclines  me  to  think  him  a kind-natured  man,  and  one 
that  loved  quietness  and  peace.  Notwithstanding  all  this, 
Hermippus  tells  us  that  he  had  no  hand  in  the  ordinance  , 
that  Iphitus  made  it,  and  l>ycurgus  came  only  as  a spectator, 
and  that  by  mere  accident  too.  Being  there,  he  heard  as  ii 
were  a man’s  voice  behind  him,  blaming  and  wondering  ai 


90 


LYCURGUS. 


him  that  he  did  not  encourage  his  countr}^men  to  resort  to  the 
assembly,  and,  turning  about  and  seeing  no  man,  concluded 
that  it  was  a voice  from  heaven,  and  upon  this  immediately 
went  to  Iphitus  and  assisted  him  in  ordering  the  ceremonies 
of  that  feast,  which,  by  his  means,  were  better  established, 
and  with  more  repute  than  before. 

To  return  to  the  Lacedaemonians.  Their  discipline  con- 
tinued still  after  they  were  full-grown  men.  No  one  was  al- 
lowed to  live  after  his  own  fancy  ; but  the  city  was  a sort  of 
camp,  in  which  every  man  had  his  share  of  provisions  and 
business  set  out,  and  looked  upon  himself  not  so  much  born 
to  serve  his  own  ends  as  the  interest  of  his  country.  There- 
fore if  they  were  commanded  nothing  else,  they  went  to  see 
the  boys  perform  their  exercises,  to  teach  them  something  use- 
ful or  to  learn  it  themselves  of  those  who  knew  better.  And 
indeed  one  of  the  greatest  and  highest  blessings  Lycurgus  pro- 
cured his  people  was  the  abundance  of  leisure  which  pro- 
ceeded from  his  forbidding  to  them  the  exercise  of  any  mean 
tnd  mechanical  trade.  Of  the  money-making  that  depends 
jn  troublesome  going  about  and  seeing  people  and  doing 
i’usiness,  they  had  no  need  at  all  in  a state  where  wealth  ob- 
tained no  honor  or  respect.  The  Helots  tilled  their  ground 
Cor  them,  and  paid  them  yearly  in  kind  the  appointed 
quandty,  Afithout  any  trouble  of  theirs.  To  this  purpose  there 
goes  a story  of  a Lacedaemonian  who,  happening  to  be  at 
Athens  when  the  courts  were  sitting,  was  told  of  a citizen  that 
had  been  £ned  for  living  an  idle  life,  and  was  being  escorted 
home  in  much  distress  of  mind  by  his  condoling  friends ; the 
Lacedaemonian  was  much  surprised  at  it  and  desired  his 
friend  to  show  him  the  man  who  was  condemned  for  living 
like  a freeman.  Sc  much  beneath  them  did  they  esteem  the 
frivolous  devotion  of  time  and  attention  to  the  mechanical  arts 
and  to  money-making. 

It  need  not  be  said  that  upon  the  prohibition  of  gold  and 
silver,  all  lawsuits  immediately  ceased,  for  there  was  now 
neither  avarice  nor  poverty  amongst  them,  but  equality,  where 
every  one’s  wants  were  supplied,  and  independence,  because 
those  wants  were  so  small.  All  their  time,  except  when  they 
were  in  the  field,  was  taken  up  by  the  choral  dances  and  th« 
festivals,  in  hunting,  and  in  attendance  on  the  exercise- 
grounds  and  the  places  of  public  conversation.  Those  who 
were  under  thirty  years  of  age  were  not  allowed  to  go  into  the 
market-place,  but  had  the  necessaries  of  their  family  supplied 
by  the  care  of  their  relations  and  lovers  j nor  was  it  for  the 


LYCURGUS. 


9* 

credit  of  elderly  men  to  be  seen  too  often  in  the  market-place  ; 
it  was  esteemed  more  suitable  for  them  to  frequent  the  exer- 
cise-grounds and  places  of  conversation,  where  they  spent 
their  leisure  rationally  in  conversation,  not  on  money-making 
and  market-prices,  but  for  the  most  part  iu  passing  judgment 
on  some  action  worth  considering ; extolling  the  good,  and 
censuring  those  who  were  otherwise,  and  that  in  a light  and 
sportive  manner,  conveying,  without  too  much  gravity,  h ssons 
•of  advice  and  improvement.  Nor  was  Lycurgus  himself  un- 
duly austere  ; it  was  he  who  dedicated,  says  Sosibius,  the  little 
statue  of  Laughter.  Mirth,  introduced  seasonably  at  their 
suppers  and  places  of  common  entertainment,  was  to  serve  as 
a sort  of  sweetmeat  to  accompany  their  strict  and  hard  life. 
To  conclude,  he  bred  up  his  citizens  in  such  a way  that  they 
neither  would  or  could  live  by  themselves  ; they  were  to  make 
themselves  one  with  the  public  good,  and,  clustering  like  bees 
around  their  commander,  be  by  their  zeal  and  public  spirit 
carried  all  but  out  of  themselves,  and  devoted  wholly  to  their 
country.  What  their  sentiments  were  will  better  appear  by  a 
few  of  their  sayings.  Pcedaretus,  not  being  admitted  into  the 
list  of  the  three  hundred,  returned  home  with  a joyful  face, 
well  pleased  to  find  that  there  were  in  Sparta  three  hun- 
dred better  men  than  himself.  And  Polycratidas,  being 
sent  with  some  others  ambassador  to  the  lieutenants  of  the 
king  of  Persia,  being  asked  by  them  whether  they  came  in  a 
private  or  in  a public  character,  answered,  “In  a public,  if  we 
succeed  j if  not,  in  a private  character.’’  Argileoni^j,  asking 
some  who  came  from  Amphipolis  if  her  son  Brasidas  died 
courageously  and  as  became  a Spartan,  on  their  beginning  to 
praise  him  to  a high  degree,  and  saying  there  was  not  such 
another  left  in  Sparta,  answered,  “ Do  not  say  so  ; Brasidas 
was  a good  and  brave  man,  but  there  are  in  Sparta  many  bet- 
ter than  he.” 

The  senate,  as  I said  before,  consisted  of  those  who  were 
Lycurgus’s  chief  aiders  and  assistants  in  his  plans.  The 
vacancies  he  ordered  to  be  supplied  out  of  the  best  and  most 
deserving  men  past  sixty  years  old,  and  we  need  not  wonder 
if  there  was  much  striving  for  it  ; for  what  more  glorious  com- 
petition could  there  be  amongst  men,  than  one  in  which  it  was 
not  contested  who  was  swiftest  among  the  swift  or  strongest 
of  the  strong,  but  who  of  many  wise  and  good  was  wisest  and 
best,  and  fittest  to  be  intrusted  for  ever  after,  as  the  reward 
of  his  merits,  with  the  supreme  authority  of  the  common- 
wealth, and  Mith  power  over  the  lives,  franchises,  and  highest 


92 


LYCURGUS. 


interests  of  all  his  countrymen  ? The  manner  of  their  elec- 
tion was  as  follows : the  people  being  called  together,  some 
selected  persons  were  locked  up  in  a room  near  the  place  of 
election,  so  contrived  that  they  could  neither  see  nor  be  seen, 
but  could  only  hear  the  noise  of  the  assembly  without;  for 
they  decided  this,  as  most  other  affairs  of  moment,  by  the 
shouts  of  the  people.  This  done,  the  competitors  were  not 
brought  in  and  presented  all  together,  but  one  after  another 
by  lot,  and  passed  in  order  through  the  assembly  without 
speaking  a word.  Those  who  were  locked  up  had  writing  - 
tables  with  them,  in  which  they  recorded  and  marked  each 
shout  by  its  loudness,  without  knowing  in  favor  of  which  can 
didate  each  of  them  was  made,  but  merely  that  they  came 
first,  second,  third,  and  so  forth.  He  who  was  found  to  have 
the  most  and  loudest  acclamations  was  declared  senator  duly 
elected.  Upon  this  he  had  a garland  set  upon  his  head,  and 
went  in  procession  to  all  the  temples  to  give  thanks  to  the 
gods  j a great  number  of  young  men  followed  him  with  ap- 
plauses, and  women,  also,  singing  verses  in  his  honor,  and 
extolling  the  virtue  and  happiness  of  his  life.  As  he  went 
round  the  city  in  this  manner,  each  of  his  relations  and 
friends  set  a table  before  him,  saying,  “ The  city  honors  you 
with  this  banquet ; but  he,  instead  of  accepting,  passed 
round  to  the  common  table  where  he  formerly  used  to  eat, 
and  was  served  as  before,  excepting  that  now  he  had  a sec- 
ond allowance,  which  he  took  and  put  by.  By  the  time  sup- 
per was  ended,  the  women  who  were  of  kin  to  him  had  come 
about  the  door ; and  he,  beckoning  to  her  whom  he  most  es- 
teemed, presented  to  her  the  portion  he  had  saved,  saying, 
that  it  had  been  a mark  of  esteem  to  him,  and  was  so  now  to 
her ; upon  which  she  was  triumphantly  waited  upon  home  by 
the  women. 

Touching  burials,  Lycurgus  made  very  wise  regulations  ; 
for,  first  of  all,  to  cut  off  all  superstition,  he  allowed  them  to 
bury  .heir  dead  within  the  city,  and  even  round  about  their 
temples,  to  the  end  that  their  youth  might  be  accustomed  to 
such  spectacles,  and  not  be  afraid  to  see  a dead  body,  or  im- 
agine that  to  touch  a corpse  or  to  tread  upon  a grave  would 
defile  a man.  In  the  next  place,  he  commanded  them  to  put 
nothing  into  the  ground  with  them,  except  if  they  pleased,  a 
few  olive  leaves,  and  the  scarlet  cloth  that  they  were  wrapped 
in.  He  would  not  suffer  the  names  to  be  inscribed,  except 
only  of  men  who  fell  in  the  wars,  or  women  who  died  in  a 
sacred  office.  The  time,  too,  appointed  for  mourning,  was 


LTCURGUS. 


93 


very  short,  eleven  days ; on  the  twelfth,  they  were  to  do  sacri- 
fice to  Ceres,  and  leave  it  off ; so  that  we  may  see,  that  as 
he  cut  off  all  superfluity,  so  in  things  necessary  there  was 
nothing  so  small  and  trivial  which  did  not  express  some  hom- 
age of  virtue  or  scorn  of  vice.  He  filled  Lacedaemon  all 
through  with  proofs  and  examples  of  good  conduct ; with  the 
constant  sight  of  which  from  their  youth  up,  the  people  would 
hardly  fail  to  be  gradually  formed  and  advanced  in  virtue. 

And  this  was  the  reason  w'hy  he  forbade  them  to  travc  1 
Abroad,  and  go  about  acquainting  themselves  with  foreign 
rulers  of  morality,  the  habits  of  ill-educated  people,  and  dif- 
ferent views  of  government.  Withal  he  banished  from  Lace- 
daemon all  strangers  who  would  not  give  a very  good  reason 
for  their  coming  thither ; not  because  he  was  afraid  lest  they 
should  inform  themselves  of  and  imitate  his  manner  of  gov- 
ernment (as  Thucydides  says),  or  learn  any  thing  to  their 
good  ; but  rather  lest  they  should  introduce  something  con- 
trary'- to  good  manners.  With  strange  people,  strange  words 
must  be  admitted ; these  novelties  produce  novelties  in 
thought ; and  on  these  follow  views  and  feelings  whose  dis- 
cordant character  destroys  the  harmony  of  the  state.  He 
was  as  careful  to  save  his  city  from  the  infection  of  foreign 
bad  habits,  as  men  usually  are  to  prevent  the  introduction  of 
a pestilence. 

Hitherto  I,  for  my  part,  see  no  sign  of  injustice  or  want  of 
equity  in  the  laws  of  Lycurgus,  though  some  who  admit  them 
to  be  well  contrived  to  make  good  soldiers,  pronounce  them 
defective  in  point  of  justice.  The  Cryptia,  perhaps  (if  it  were 
one  of  Lycurgus’s  ordinances,  as  Aristotle  says  it  was),  gave 
both  him  and  Plato,  too,  this  opinion  alike  of  the  lawgiver 
and  his  government.  By  this  ordinance,  the  magistrates  de- 
spatched privately  some  of  the  ablest  of  the  young  men  into 
the  country,  from  time  to  time,  armed  only  with  their  daggers, 
and  taking  a little  necessary  provision  with  them  ; in  the 
daytime,  they  hid  themselves  in  out-of-the-way  places,  and 
there  lay  close,  but,  in  the  night  issued  out  into  the  highways, 
and  killed  all  the  Helots  they  could  light  upon  ; sometimes 
they  set  upon  them  by  day,  as  they  were  at  work  in  the  fields, 
and  murdered  them.  As,  also,  Thucydides,  in  his  history  of 
the  Peloponnesian  war,  tells  us,  that  a good  number  of  them, 
after  being  singled  out  for  their  bravery  by  the  Spartans,  gar- 
landed, as  enfranchised  persons,  and  led  about  to  all  the 
temples  in  token  of  honors,  shortly  after  disappeared  all  of  a 
sudden,  being  about  the  number  of  two  thousand  ; and  nc 


94 


LYCURGUS. 


man  either  then  or  since  could  give  an  account  how  they 
came  by  their  deaths.  And  Aristotle,  in  particular,  adds, 
that  the  ephori,  so  soon  as  they  were  entered  into  their  office, 
used  to  declare  war  against  them,  that  they  might  be  massa- 
cred without  a breach  of  religion.  It  is  confessed,  on  all 
hands,  that  the  Spartans  dealt  with  them  very  hardly  ; for  it 
was  a common  thing  to  force  them  to  drink  to  excess,  and  to 
lead  them  in  that  condition  into  their  public  halls,  that  the 
children  might  see  what  a sight  a drunken  man  is  ; they  made 
them  to  dance  low  dances,  and  sing  ridiculous  songs,  forbid 
ding  them  expressly  to  meddle  with  any  of  a better  kind 
And  accordingly,  when  the  Thebans  made  their  invasion  into 
Laconia,  and  took  a great  number  of  the  Helots,  they  could 
by  no  means  persuade  them  to  sing  the  verses  of  Terpander, 
Aleman,  or  Spendon,  “ For,^’  said  they,  “ the  masters  do  not 
like  it.’^  So  that  it  was  truly  observed  by  one,  that  in  Sparta 
he  who  was  free  was  most  so,  and  he  that  was  a slave  there, 
the  greatest  slave  in  the  w^orld.  For  my  part,  I am  of  opin- 
ion that  these  outrages  and  cruelties  began  to  be  exercised  in 
Sparta  at  a later  time,  especially  after  the  great  earthquake, 
when  the  Helots  made  a general  insurrection,  and,  joining 
wath  the  Messenians,  laid  the  country  waste,  and  brought  the 
greatest  danger  upon  the  city.  For  1 cannot  persuade  myself 
to  ascribe  to  Lycurgus  so  wicked  and  barbarous  a course, 
judging  of  him  from  the  gentleness  of  his  disposition  and  jus- 
tice upon  all  other  occasions  ; to  which  the  oracle  also  testi- 
fied. 

When  he  perceived  that  his  more  important  institutions 
had  taken  root  in  the  minds  of  his  countrymen,  that  custom 
had  rendered  them  familiar  and  easy,  that  his  commonwealth 
was  now  grown  up  and  able  to  go  alone,  then,  as  Plato  some- 
where tells  us,  the  Maker  of  the  world,  when  first  he  saw  it 
existing  and  beginning  its  motion,  felt  joy,  even  so  Lycurgus, 
viewing  with  joy  and  satisfaction  the  greatness  and  beauty  of 
his  political  structure,  now  fairly  at  work  and  in  motion,  con- 
ceived the  thought  to  make  it  immortal  too,  and,  as  far  as 
human  forecast  could  reach,  to  deliver  it  down  unchangeable 
to  posterity.  He  called  an  extraordinary  assembly  of  all  the 
people,  and  told  them  that  he  now  thought  every  thing  reason- 
ably well  established,  both  for  the  happiness  and  the  virtue  of 
the  state  ; but  that  there  was  one  thing  still  behind,  of  the 
greatest  importance,  which  he  thought  not  fit  to  impart  untiJ. 
he  had  consulted  the  oracle ; in  the  mean  time,  his  desire 
was  that  they  would  observe  the  laws  without  any  the  least 


LYCUKGUS 


95 


alteration  until  his  return,  and  then  he  would  do  as  the  god 
should  direct  him.  They  all  consented  readily,  and  bade  him 
hasten  his  journey ; but,  before  he  departed,  he  administered 
an  oath  to  the  two  kings,  the  senate,  and  the  whole  commons, 
to  abide  by  and  maintain  the  established  form  of  polity  until 
Lycurgus  should  be  come  back.  This  done,  he  set  out  foi 
Delphi,  and,  having  sacrificed  to  Apollo,  asked  him  whether 
the  laws  he  had  established  were  good,  and  sufficient  for  a 
people’s  happiness  and  virtue.  The  oracle  answered  that  the 
laws  were  excellent,  and  that  the  people,  while  it  observed 
them,  should  live  in  the  height  of  renown.  Lycurgus  took  the 
oracle  in  writing,  and  sent  it  over  to  Sparta ; and,  having 
sacrificed  the  second  time  to  Apollo,  and  taken  leave  of  his 
friends  and  his  son,  he  resolved  that  the  Spartans  should  not 
be  released  from  the  oath  they  had  taken,  and  that  he  would, 
of  his  own  act,  close  his  life  where  he  was.  He  was  now 
about  that  age  in  which  life  was  still  tolerable,  and  yet  might 
be  quitted  without  regret.  Every  thing,  moreover,  about  him 
was  in  a sufficiently  prosperous  condition.  He  therefore 
made  an  end  of  himself  by  a total  abstinence  from  food, 
thinking  it  a statesman’s  duty  to  make  his  very  death,  if  pos- 
sible, an  act  of  service  to  the  state,  and  even  in  the  end  of 
his  life  to  give  some  example  of  virtue  and  effect  some  useful 
purpose.  He  would,  on  the  one  hand,  crown  and  consummate 
his  own  happiness  by  a death  suitable  to  so  honorable  a life, 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  would  secure  to  his  countrymen  the 
enjoyment  of  the  advantages  he  had  spent  ids  life  in  obtain- 
ing for  them,  since  they  had  solemnly  sworn  the  maintenance 
of  his  institutions  until  his  return.  Nor  was  he  deceived  in 
his  expectations,  for  the  city  of  Lacedaemon  continued  the 
chief  city  of  all  Greece  for  the  space  of  five  hundred  years,  in 
strict  observance  of  Lycurgus’s  laws ; in  all  which  time  there 
was  no  manner  of  alteration  made,  during  the  reign  of  four- 
teen kings  down  to  the  time  of  Agis,  the  son  of  Archidamus. 
For  the  new  creation  of  the  ephori,  though  thought  to  be  in 
favor  of  the  people,  was  so  far  from  diminishing,  that  it  very 
much  heightened,  the  aristocratical  character  of  the  govern- 
ment. 

In  the  time  of  Agis,  gold  and  silver  first  flowed  into  Sparta, 
and  with  them  all  those  mischiefs  which  attend  the  immoder- 
ate desire  of  riches.  Lysander  promoted  this  disorder  ; for 
by  bringing  in  rich  spoils  from  the  wars,  although  himself  in- 
corrupt, he  yet  by  this  means  filled  his  country  with  avarice 
and  luxury,  and  subverted  the  laws  and  ordinances  of  Lycur 


96 


LYCURGUS. 


gus  ; SO  long  as  which  were  in  force,  the  aspect  presented  by 
Sparta  was  rather  that  of  a rule  of  life  followed  by  one  wise 
and  temperate  man,  than  of  the  political  government  of  a 
nation.  And  as  the  poets  feign  of  Hercules,  that,  with  his 
lion’s  skin  and  his  club,  he  went  over  the  world,  punishing 
lawless  and  cruel  tyrants,  so  may  it  be  said  of  the  Lacedae^ 
monians,  that,  with  a common  staff  and  a coarse  coat,  they 
gained  the  willing  and  joyful  obedience  of  Greece,  through 
whose  whole  extent  they  suppressed  unjust  usurpations  and 
despotisms,  arbitrated  in  war,  and  composed  civil  dissem 
sions  ; and  this  often  without  so  much  as  taking  down  one 
buckler,  but  barely  by  sending  some  one  single  deputy  to 
whose  direction  all  at  once  submitted,  like  bees  swarming 
and  taking  their  places  around  their  prince.  Such  a fund  of 
order  and  equity,  enough  and  to  spare  for  others,  existed  in 
their  state. 

And  therefore  I cannot  but  wonder  at  those  who  say  thal 
the  Spartans  were  good  subjects,  but  bad  governors,  and  for 
proof  of  it  allege  a saying  of  king  Theopompus,  who,  when 
one  said  that  Sparta  held  up  so  long  because  their  kings 
could  command  so  well,  replied,  “ Nay,  rather  because  the 
people  know  so  well  how  to  obey.”  For  people  do  not  obey, 
unless  rulers  know  how  to  command ; obedience  is  a lesson 
taught  by  commanders.  A true  leader  himself  creates  the 
obedience  of  his  own  followers ; as  it  is  the  last  attainment 
in  the  art  of  riding  to  make  a horse  gentle  and  tractable,  so 
is  it  of  the  science  of  government,  to  inspire  men  with  a wil- 
lingness to  obey.  The  Lacedaemonians  inspired  men  not  with' 
a mere  willingness,  but  with  an  absolute  desire  to  be  their 
subjects.  For  they  did  not  send  petitions  to  them  for  ships 
or  money,  or  a supply  of  armed  men,  but  only  for  a Spartan 
commander ; and,  having  obtained  one,  used  him  with  honor 
and  reverence  ; so  the  Sicilians  behaved  to  Gylippus,  the 
Chalcidians  to  Brasidas,  and  all  the  Greeks  in  Asia  to  Ly- 
Sander,  Callicratidas,  and  Agesilaus  ; they  styled  them  the 
composers  and  chasteners  of  each  people  or  prince  they  were 
sent  to,  and  had  their  eyes  always  fixed  upon  the  city  of 
Sparta  itself,  as  the  perfect  model  of  good  manners  and  wise 
government.  The  rest  seemed  as  scholars,  they  the  masters 
of  Greece  ; and  to  this  Stratonicus  pleasantly  alluded,  when 
in  jest  he  pretended  to  make  a law  that  the  Athenians  should 
conduct  religious  processions  and  the  mysteries,  the  Eleans 
should  preside  at  the  Olympic  games,  and,  if  either  did  amiss, 
the  Lacedaemonians  be  beaten.  Antisthenes,  too,  one  of  the 


LYCURGUS. 


97 


scholars  of  Socrates,  said,  in  earnest,  of  the  Thebans,  when 
they  were  elated  by  their  victory  at  Leuctra,  that  they  looked 
like  schoolboys  who  had  beaten  their  master. 

However,  it  was  not  the  design  of  Lycurgus  that  his  city 
should  govern  a great  many  others  ; he  thought  rather  that 
the  happiness  of  a state,  as  a private  man,  consisted  chiefly 
in  the  exercise  of  \ irtue,  and  in  the  concord  of  the  inhabi- 
tants ; his  aim,  therefore,  in  all  his  arrangements,  was  to  make 
and  keep  them  free-minded,  self-dependent,  and  temperate. 
And  therefore  all  those  who  have  written  well  on  politics,  as 
Plato,  Diogenes,  and  Zeno,  have  taken  Lycurgus  for  their 
model,  leaving  behind*  them,  however,  mere  projects  and 
words  ; whereas  Lycurgus  was  the  author,  not  in  writing 
but  in  reality,  of  a government  which  none  else  could  so 
much  as  copy ; and  while  men  in  general  have  treated 
the  individual  philosophic  character  as  unattainable,  he,  by 
the  example  of  a complete  philosophic  state,  raised  himself 
high  above  all  other  lawgivers  of  Greece.  And  so  Aristotle 
says  they  did  him  less  honor  at  Lacedaemon  after  his  death 
than  he  deserved,  although  he  has  a temple  there,  and  they 
offer  sacrifices  yearly  to  him  as  to  a god. 

It  is  reported  that  when  his  bones  were  brought  home  to 
Sparta  his  tomb  was  struck  with  lightning,  an  accident  which 
befell  no  eminent  person  but  himself  and  Euripides,  who  was 
buried  at  Arethusa  in  Macedonia ; and  it  may  serve  that 
poet^s  admirers  as  a testimony  in  his  favor,  that  he  had  in  this 
the  same  fate  with  that  holy  man  and  favorite  of  the  gods. 
Some  say  Lycurgus  died  in  Cirrha  ; Apollothemis  says,  after 
he  had  come  to  Elis ; Timaeus  and  Aristoxenus,  that  he  end- 
ed his  life  in  Crete  ; Aristoxenus  adds  that  his  tomb  is  shown 
by  the  Cretans  in  the  district  of  Pergamus,  near  the  strangers’ 
road.  He  left  an  only  son,  Antiorus,  on  whose  death  without 
issue  his  family  became  extinct.  But  his  relations  and  friends 
kept  up  an  annual  commemoration  of  him  down  to  a long 
time  after  ;-and  the  days  of  the  meeting  were  called  Lycur- 
gides.  Aristocrates,  the  son  of  Hipparchus,  says  that  he  died 
in  Crete,  and  that  his  Cretan  friends,  in  accordance  with  his 
own  request,  when  they  had  burned  his  body,  scattered  the 
ashes  into  the  sea ; for  fear  lest,  if  his  relics  should  be  trans- 
ported to  Lacedaemon,  the  people  might  pretend  to  be  re- 
leased from  their  oaths,  and  make  innovations  in  the  govern- 
ment. Thus  much  may  suffice  for  the  life  and  actions  of 
Lycurgus. 


7 


98 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


Though  the  pedigrees  of  noble  families  of  R(>me  go 
back  in  exact  form  as  far  as  Numa  Pompilius,  yet  there  is 
great  diversity  amongst  historians  concerning  the  time  in 
which  he  reigned ; a certain  writer  called  Clodius,  in  a book 
of  his  entitled  Strictures  on  Chronology,  avers  that  the  an* 
cient  registers  of  Rome  were  lost  when  the  city  was  sacked 
by  the  Gauls,  and  that  those  which  are  now  extant  were 
counterfeited,  to  flatter  and  serve  the  humor  of  some  men 
who  wished  to  have  themselves  derived  from  some  ancient 
and  noble  lineage,  though  in  reality  with  no  claim  to  it. 
And  though  it  be  commonly  reported  that  Numa  was  a 
scholar  and  a familiar  acquaintance  of  Pythagoras,  yet  it  is 
again  contradicted  by  others,  who  affirm,  that  he  was  ac- 
quainted with  neither  the  Greek  language  nor  learning,  and 
that  he  was  a person  of  that  natural  talent  and  ability  as  of 
himself  to  attain  to  virtue,  or  else  that  he  found  some  bar- 
barian instructor  superior  to  Pythagoras.  Some  affirm,  also, 
that  Pythagoras  was  not  contemporary  with  Numa,  but  lived 
at  least  five  generations  after  him  ; and  that  some  other 
Pythagoras,  a native  of  Sparta,  who,  in  the  sixteenth  Olym- 
piad, in  the  third  year  of  which  Numa  became  king,  won  a 
prize  at  the  Olympic  race,  might,  in  his  travel  through  Italy, 
have  gained  acquaintance  with  Numa,  and  assisted  him  in 
the  constitution  of  his  kingdom ; whence  it  comes  that  many 
Laconian  laws  and  customs  appear  amongst  the  Roman  in- 
stitutions. Yet,  in  any  case,  Numa  w^as  descended  of  the 
Sabines,  who  declare  themselves  to  be  a colony  of  the  Lace- 
daemonians. And  chronology,  in  general,  is  uncertain  ; es- 
pecially when  fixed  by  the  lists  of  victors  in  the  Olympic 
games,  which  were  published  at  a late  period  by  Plippias  the 
Elean,  and  rest  on  no  positive  authority.  Commencing,  how- 
ever, at  a convenient  point,  we  will  proceed  to  give  the  most 
noticeable  events  that  are  recorded  of  the  life  of  Numa. 

It  was  the  thirty-seventh  year,  counted  from  the  founda- 
tion of  Rome,  when  Romulus,  then  reigning,  did,  on  the  fifth 
day  of  the  month  of  July,  called  the  Caprotine  Nones,  offer  a 
public  sacrifice  at  the  Goat^s  Marsh,  in  presence  of  the  sen- 
ate and  people  of  Rome.  Suddenly  the  sky  was  darkened,  a 


NUMA  POMPtLIUb. 


99 


thick  cloud  of  storm  and  rain  settled  on  the  earth  ; the  com- 
mon people  fled  in  affright,  and  were  dispersed  ; and  in  this 
whirlwind  Romulus  disappeared,  his  body  being  never  found 
either  living  or  dead.  A foul  suspicion  presently  attached  to 
the  patricians,  and  rumors  were  current  among  the  people  as 
if  that  they,  weary  of  kindly  government,  and  exasperated  of 
late  by  the  imperious  deportment  of  Romulus  towards  them, 
had  plotted  against  his  life  and  made  him  away,  that  so  the\ 
might  assume  the  authority  and  government  into  their  own 
hands.  This  suspicion  they  sought  to  turn  aside  by  decree® 
ing  divine  honors  to  Romulus,  as  to  one  not  dead  but  trans- 
lated  to  a higher  condition.  And  Proculus,  a man  of  note, 
took  oath  that  he  saw  Romulus  caught  up  into  heaven  in  his 
arms  and  vestments,  and  heard  him,  as  he  ascended,  cry  out 
that  they  should  hereafter  style  him  by  the  name  of  Quirinus. 

This  trouble,  being  appeased,  was  followed  by  another, 
about  the  election  of  a new  king  ; for  the  minds  of  the  origh 
nal  Romans  and  the  new  inhabitants  were  not  as  yet  grown 
into  that  perfect  unity  of  temper,  but  that  there  were  diversi- 
ties of  factions  amongst  the  commonalty,  and  jealousies  and 
emulations  amongst  the  senators  ; for  though  all  agreed  that 
it  was  necessary  to  have  a king,  yet  what  person  or  of  which 
nation,  was  matter  of  dispute.  For  those  who  had  been 
builders  of  the  city  with  Romulus,  and  had  already  yielded  a 
share  of  their  lands  and  dwellings  to  the  Sabines,  were  indig- 
nant at  any  pretension  on  their  part  to  rule  over  their  bene- 
factors. On  the  other  side,  the  Sabines  could  plausibly  allege, 
that,  at  their  king  Tatius’s  decease,  they  had  peaceably  sub- 
mitted to  the  sole  command  of  Romulus  ; so  now  their  turn 
was  come  to  have  a king  chosen  out  of  their  own  nation  ; nor 
did  they  esteem  themselves  to  have  combined  with  the  Ro- 
mans as  inferiors,  nor  to  have  contributed  less  than  they  to 
the  increase  of  Rome,  which,  without  their  numbers  and  asso- 
ciation, could  scarcely  have  merited  the  name  of  a city. 

Thus  did  both  parties  argue  and  dispute  their  cause  ; but 
lest  meanwhile  discord,  in  the  absence  of  all  command,  should 
occasion  general  confusion,  it  was  agreed  that  the  hundied 
and  fifty  senators  should  interchangeably  execute  the  office  of 
supreme  magistrate,  and  each  in  succession,  with  the  ensigns 
of  royalty,  should  offer  the  solemn  sacrifices  and  despatch 
public  business  for  the  space  of  six  hours  by  day  and  six  by 
night ; which  vicissitude  and  equal  distribution  of  power 
would  preclude  all  rivalry  amongst  the  senators  and  envy 
from  the  people,  when  they  should  behold  one,  -plev^ited  to 


roo 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


the  degree  of  a king,  levelled  within  the  space  of  a day  to  the 
condition  of  a private  citizen.  This  form  of  government  is 
termed,  by  the  Romans,  interregnum.  Nor  yet  could  they, 
by  this  plausible  and  modest  way  of  rule,  escape  suspicion 
and  clamor  of  the  vulgar,  as  though  they  were  changing  the 
form  of  government  to  an  oligarchy,  and  designing  to  keep 
the  supreme  power  in  a sort  of  wardship  under  themselveSj 
without  ever  proceeding  to  choose  a king.  Both  parties  came 
at  length  to  the  conclusion  that  the  one  should  choose  a king 
out  of  the  body  of  the  other ; the  Romans  make  choice  of  a 
Sabine,  or  the  Sabines  name  a Roman ; this  was  esteemed 
vhe  best  expedient  to  put  an  end  to  all  party  spirit,  and  the 
prince  who  should  be  chosen  would  have  an  equal  affection 
^o  the  one  party  as  his  electors  and  to  the  other  as  his  kins- 
men. The  Sabines  remitted  the  choice  to  the  original  Ro- 
mans, and  they,  too,  on  their  part,  were  more  inclinable  to 
receive  a Sabine  king  elected  by  themselves  than  to  see  a 
Roman  exalted  by  the  Sabines.  Consultations  being  accord- 
''ngly  held,  they  named  Numa  Pompilius,  of  the  Sabine  race, 
H person  of  that  high  reputation  for  excellence,  that,  though 
Ve  were  not  actually  residing  at  Rome,  yet  he  was  no  sooner 
nominated  than  accepted  by  the  Sabines,  with  acclamation 
almost  greater  than  that  of  the  electors  themselves. 

The  choice  being  declared  and  made  known  to  the  people; 
principal  men  of  both  parties  were  appointed  to  visit  and  en- 
treat him,  that  he  would  accept  the  administration  of  the 
govornment.  Numa  resided  at  a famous  city  of  the  Sabines 
called  Cures,  whence  the  Romans  and  Sabines  gave  them- 
selve.i  the  joint  name  of  Quirites.  Pomponius,  an  illustrious 
persoa,  was  his  father,  and  he  the  youngest  of  his  four  sons, 
being  (as  it  had  been  divinely  ordered)  born  on  the  twenty- 
first  day  of  April,  the  day  of  the  foundation  of  Rome.  He 
was  endued  with  a soul  rarely  tempered  by  nature,  and  dis- 
posed to  virtue,  which  he  had  yet  more  subdued  by  discipline, 
a severe  life,  and  the  study  of  philosophy ; means  which  had 
not  only  succeeded  in  expelling  the  baser  passions,  but  also 
the  violent  and  rapacious  temper  which  barbarians  are  apt  to 
think  highly  of ; true  bravery,  in  his  judgment,  was  regarded 
as  consisting  in  the  subjugation  of  our  passions  by  reason. 

He  banished  all  luxury  and  softness  from  his  own  home, 
and  while  citizens  alike  and  strangers  found  in  him  an  incor- 
ruptible judge  and  counsellor,  in  private  he  devoted  himself 
not  to  amusement  or  lucre,  but  to  the  worship  of  the  immor- 
tal gods,  and  rational  contemplation  of  their  divine  power 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


lOI 


and  nature.  So  famous  was  he,  that  Tatius,  the  colleague  ot 
Romulus,  chose  him  for  his  son-in-law,  and  gave  him  his  only 
daughter,  which,  however,  did  not  stimulate  his  vanity  to 
desire  to  dwell  with  his  father-in-law  at  Rome  ; he  rather 
chose  to  inhabit  with  his  Sabines,  and  cherish  his  own  father 
in  his  old  age ; and  Tatia,  also,  preferred  the  private  condi- 
tion of  her  husband  before  the  honors  and  splendor  she  might 
have  enjoyed  with  her  father.  She  is  said  to  have  died  after 
she  had  been  married  thirteen  years,  and  then  Numa,  leaving 
the  conversation  of  the  town,  betook  himself  to  a country 
life,  and  in  a solitary  manner  frequented  the  groves  and  fields 
consecrated  to  the  gods,  passing  his  life  in  desert  places. 
And  this  in  particular  gave  occasion  to  the  story  about  the 
goddess,  namely,  that  Numa  did  not  retire  from  human  socie- 
ty out  of  any  melancholy  or  disorder  of  mind,  but  because  he 
had  tasted  the  joys  of  more  elevated  intercourse,  and,  admit- 
ted to  celestial  wedlock  in  the  love  and  converse  of  the  god^ 
dess  Egeria,  had  attained  to  blessedness,  and  to  a divine 
wisdom. 

The  story  evidently  resembles  those  very  ancient  fables 
which  the  Phrygians  have  received  and  still  recount  of  Attis, 
the  Bithynians  of  Herodotus,  the  Arcadians  of  Endymion,  not 
to  mention  several  others  who  were  thought  blessed  and  be- 
loved of  the  gods  ; nor  does  it  seem  strange  if  God,  a lover, 
not  of  horses  or  birds,  but  men,  should  not  disdain  to  dwell 
with  the  virtuous  and  converse  with  the  wise  and  temperate 
soul,  though  it  be  altogether  hard,  indeed,  to  believe,  that 
any  god  or  daemon  is  capable  of  a sensual  or  bodily  love  and 
passion  for  any  human  form  or  beauty.  Though,  indeed,  the 
wise  Egyptians  do  not  plausibly  make  the  distinction,  that  it 
may  be  possible  for  a divine  spirit  so  to  apply  itself  to  the 
nature  of  a woman,  as  to  imbreed  in  her  the  first  beginnings 
of  generation,  while  on  the  other  side  they  conclude  it  impos- 
sible for  the  male  kind  to  have  any  intercourse  or  mixture  by 
the  body  with  any  divinity,  not  considering,  however,  that 
what  takes  place  on  the  one  side  must  also  take  place  on  the 
other;  intermixture,  by  force  of  terms,  is  reciprocal.  Not 
that  it  is  otherwise  than  befitting  to  suppose  that  the  gods 
feel  towards  men  affection,  and  love,  in  the  sense  of  affection, 
and  in  the  form  of  care  and  solicitude  for  their  virtue  and 
their  good  dispositions.  And,  therefore,  it  was  no  error  of 
those  who  feigned,  that  Phorbas,  Hyacinthus,  and  Admetus 
were  beloved  by  Apollo ; or  that  Hippolytus  the  Sicyonian 
was  so  much  in  his  favor,  that,  as  often  as  he  sailed  from 


102 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


Sicyon  to  Cirrha,  the  Pythian  prophetess  uttered  this  heioic 
verse,  expressive  of  the  god’s  attention  and  joy  : 

Now  doth  Ilippolytus  return  again, 

And  venture  his  dear  life  upon  the  main. 

It  is  reported,  also,  that  Fan  became  enamored  of  Pindar 
for  his  verses,  and  the  divine  power  rendered  honor  to  Hesiod 
and  Archilochus  after  their  death  for  the  sake  of  the  Muses ; 
there  is  a statement,  also,  that  ^sculapius  sojourned  with 
Sophocles  in  his  lifetime,  of  which  many  proofs  still  exist,  and 
that,  when  he  was  dead,  another  deity  took  care  for  his 
funeral  rites.  And  so  if  any  credit  may  be  given  to  these  in- 
stances, why  should  we  judge  it  incongruous,  that  alike  spirit 
of  the  gods  should  visit  Zaleucus,  Minos,  Zoroaster,  Lycurgus, 
and  Numa,  the  controllers  of  kingdoms,  and  the  legislators  for 
commonv/ealths  Nay,  it  may  be  reasonable  to  believe,  that 
the  gods,  with  a serious  purpose,  assist  at  the  councils  and 
serious  debates  of  such  men,  to  inspire  and  direct  them  ; and 
visit  poets  and  musicians,  if  at  all,  in  their  more  sportive 
moods  j but,  for  difference  of  opinion  here,  as  Bacchylides 
said,  “the  road  is  broad.^’  For  there  is  no  absurdity  in  the 
account  also  given,  that  Lycurgus  and  Numa,  and  other  fa- 
mous law-givers,  having  the  task  of  subduing  perverse  and 
refractory  multitudes,  and  of  introducing  great  innovations, 
themselves  made  this  pretension  to  divine  authority,  which, 
if  not  true,  assuredly  was  expedient  for  the  interests  of  those 
it  imposed  upon. 

Numa  was  about  forty  years  of  age  when  the  ambassadors 
came  to  make  him  offers  of  the  kingdom ; the  speakers  were  Pro- 
cuius  and  Velesus,  one  or  other  of  whom  it  had  been  thought 
the  people  would  elect  as  their  new  king ; the  original  Ro- 
mans being  for  Proculus,  and  the  Sabines  for  Velesus.  Their 
speech  was  very  short,  supposing  that,  when  they  came  to 
tender  a kingdom,  there  needed  little  to  persuade  to  an  ac- 
ceptance ; but,  contrary  to  their  expectations,  they  found  that 
they  had  to  use  many  reasons  and  entreaties  to  induce  one, 
that  lived  in  peace  and  quietness,  to  accept  the  government 
of  a city  whose  foundation  and  increase  had  been  made,  in  a 
manner,  in  war.  In  presence  of  his  father  and  his  kinsman 
Marcius,  he  returned  answer  that  “ Every  alteration  of  a 
man’s  life  is  dangerous  to  him  ; but  madness  only  could  in- 
duce one  who  needs  nothing,  and  is  satisfied  with  every  thing, 
to  quit  a life  he  is  accustomed  to ; which,  whatever  else  it  is 
deficient  in,  at  any  rate  has  the  advantage  of  certainty  ovei 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


103 


one  wholly  doubtful  and  unknown.  Though,  indeed,  the  dif< 
ficulties  of  this  government  cannot  even  be  called  unknown; 
Romulus,  who  first  held  it,  did  not  escape  the  suspicion 
having  plotted  against  the  life  of  his  colleague  Tatius  ; nor 
the  senate  the  like  accusation,  of  having  treasonably  mur 
dered  Romulus.  Yet  Romulus  had  the  advantage  to  be 
thought  divinely  born  and  miraculously  preserved  and  nur- 
tured. My  birth  was  mortal;  I was  reared  and  instructed  by 
men  that  are  known  to  you.  The  very  points  of  my  charac- 
ter that  are  most  commended  mark  me  as  unfit  to  reign, — • 
love  of  retirement  and  of  studies  inconsistent  with  business, 
a passion  that  has  become  inveterate  in  me  for  peace,  for 
unwarlike  occupations,  and  for  the  society  of  men  whose 
meetings  are  but  those  of  worship  and  of  kindly  intercourse, 
whose  lives  in  general  are  spent  upon  their  farms  and  their 
pastures.  I should  but  be,  methinks,  a laughing-stock,  while 
I should  go  about  to  inculcate  the  w'orship  of  the  gods  and 
give  lessons  in  the  love  of  justice  and  the  abhorrence  of  vio- 
lence and  war,  to  a city  whose  needs  are  rather  for  a captain 
than  for  a king.’’ 

The  Romans,  perceiving  by  these  words  that  he  was  de- 
clining to  accept  the  kingdom,  were  the  more  instant  and 
urgent  with  him  that  he  would  not  forsake  and  desert  them  in 
this  condition,  and  suffer  them  to  relapse,  as  they  must,  into 
their  former  sedition  and  civil  discord,  there  being  no  person 
on  whom  both  parties  could  accord  but  on  himself.  And,  at 
length,  his  father  and  Marcius,  taking  him  aside,  persuaded 
him  to  accept  a gift  so  noble  in  itself,  and  tendered  to  him 
rather  from  heaven  than  from  men.  “ Though,”  said  they, 
“ you  neither  desire  riches,  being  content  with  what  you  have, 
nor  court  the  fame  of  authority,  as  having  already  the  more 
valuable  fame  of  virtue,  yet  you  will  consider  that  government 
itself  is  a service  of  God,  who  now  calls  out  into  action  your 
qualities  of  justice  and  wisdom,  which  were  not  meant  to  be 
left  useless  and  unemployed.  Cease,  therefore,  to  avoid  and 
turn  your  back  upon  an  office  which,  to  a wise  man,  is  a field 
for  great  and  honorable  actions,  for  the  magnificent  worship 
of  the  gods,  and  for  the  introduction  of  habits  of  piety,  which 
authority  alone  can  effect  amongst  a people.  Tatius,  though 
a foreigner,  was  beloved,  and  the  memory  of  Romulus  has 
received  divine  honors  ; and  who  knows  but  that  this  people, 
being  victorious,  may  be  satiated  with  war,  and,  content 
with  the  trophies  and  spoils  they  have  acquired,  may  be^ 
above  all  things,  desirous  to  have  a pacific  and  justice-loving 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


ro4 

prince  to  lead  them  to  good  order  and  quiet?  But  if,  indeed, 
their  desires  are  uncontrollably  and  madly  set  on  war,  were  it 
not  better,  then,  to  have  the  reins  held  by  such  a moderating 
hand  as  is  able  to  divert  the  fury  another  way,  and  that  your 
native  city  and  the  whole  Sabine  nation  should  possess  in 
you  a bond  of  good-will  and  friendship  with  this  young  and 
growing  power  ? 

With  these  reasons  and  persuasions  several  auspicious 
omens  are  said  to  have  concurred,  and  the  zeal,  also,  of  his 
fellow-citizens,  who,  on  understanding  what  message  the  Ro- 
man ambassadors  had  brought  him,  entreated  him  to  accom- 
pany them,  and  to  accept  the  kingdom  as  a means  to  unan- 
imity and  concord  between  the  nations. 

Numa,  yielding  to  these  inducements,  having  first  per- 
formed divine  sacrifice,  proceeded  to  Rome,  being  met  in  his 
way  by  the  senate  and  people,  who,  with  an  impatient  desire, 
came  forth  to  receive  him  ; the  women,  also,  welcomed  him 
with  joyful  acclamations,  and  sacrifices  were  offered  for  him 
in  all  the  temples,  and  so  universal  was  the  joy,  that  they 
seemed  to  be  receiving,  not  a new  king,  but  a new  kingdom. 
In  this  manner  he  descended  into  the  forum,  where  Spurius 
Vettius,  whose  turn  it  was  to  be  interrex  at  that  hour,  put  it 
to  the  vote  and  all  declared  him  king.  Then  the  regalities 
and  robes  of  authority  were  brought  to  him  ; but  he  refused 
to  be  invested  with  them  until  he  had  first  consulted  and  been 
confirmed  by  the  gods  ; so  being  accompanied  by  the  priests 
and  augurs,  he  ascended  the  Capitol,  which  at  that  time  the 
Romans  called  the  Tarpeian  Hill.  Then  the  chief  of  the 
augurs  covered  Numa’s  head,  and  turned  his  face  towards 
the  south,  and,  standing  behind  him,  laid  his  right  hand  on 
his  head,  and  prayed,  turning  his  eyes  every  way,  in  expecta- 
tion of  some  auspicious  signal  from  the  gods.  It  was  won- 
derful, meantime,  with  what  silence  and  devotion  the  multi- 
tude stood  assembled  in  the  forum,  in  similar  expectation  and 
suspense,  till  auspicious  birds  appeared  and  passed  on  the 
right.  Then  Numa,  apparelling  himself  in  his  royal  robes^ 
descended  from  the  hill  to  the  people,  by  whom  he  was  re- 
ceived and  congratulated  with  shouts  and  acclamations  of 
welcome,  as  a holy  king,  and  beloved  of  all  the  gods. 

The  first  thing  he  did  at  his  entrance  into  government 
was  to  dismiss  the  band  of  three  hundred  men  which  had 
been  Romulus’s  life-guard,  called  by  him  Celeres,  saying  that 
he  would  not  distrust  those  who  put  confidence  in  him  ; 
nor  rule  over  a people  that  distrusted  him.  The  next 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


105 

thing  he  did  was  to  add  to  the  two  priests  of  Jupiter  and 
Mars  a third,  in  honor  of  Romulus,  whom  he  called  the 
Flamen  Quirinalis.  The  Romans  anciently  called  their 
priests  Flamines,  by  corruption  of  the  word  Pilamines,  from 
a certain  cap  which  they  wore,  called  Pileus.  In  those  times 
Greek  words  were  more  mixed  with  the  Latin  than  at  present ; 
thus  also  the  royal  robe,  which  is  called  Laena,  Juba  says,  is 
the  same  as  the  Greek  Chlaena  ; and  that  the  name  of  Caniil- 
Ills,  given  to  the  boy  with  both  his  parents  living,  who  serves 
in  the  temple  of  Jupiter,  was  taken  from  the  name  given  by 
some  Greeks  to  Mercury,  denoting  his  office  of  attendance  on 
the  gods. 

When  Numa  had,  by  such  measures,  won  the  favor  and 
affection  of  the  people,  he  set  himself  without  delay,  to  the 
task  of  bringing  the  hard  and  iron  Roman  temper  to  some- 
what more  of  gentleness  and  equity.  Plato’s  expression  of  a 
city  in  high  fever  was  never  more  applicable  than  to  Rome 
at  that  time ; in  its  origin  formed  by  daring  and  warlike 
spirits,  whom  bold  and  desperate  adventure  brought  thither 
from  every  quarter,  it  had  found  in  perpetual  wars  and  incur- 
sions on  its  neighbors  its  after  sustenance  and  means  of 
growth,  and  in  conflict  with  danger  the  source  of  new  strength  ; 
like  piles,  which  the  blows  of  the  hammer  serve  to  fix  into 
the  ground.  Wherefore  Numa,  judging  it  no  slight  undertak- 
ing to  mollify  and  bend  to  peace  the  presumptuous  and  stub- 
born spirits  of  this  people,  began  to  operate  upon  them  with 
the  sanctions  of  religion.  He  sacrificed  often  and  used 
processions  and  religious  dances,  in  which  most  commonly  he 
officiated  in  person  ; by  such  combinations  of  solemnity  with 
refined  and  humanizing  pleasures,  seeking  to  win  over  and 
mitigate  their  fiery  and  warlike  tempers.  At  times,  also,  he 
filled  their  imaginations  with  religious  terrors,  professing  that 
strange  apparitions  had  been  seen,  and  dreadful  voices  heard  j 
hus  subduing  and  humbling  their  minds  by  a sense  of  super- 
latural  fears. 

This  method  which  Numa  used  made  it  believed  that  he 
had  been  much  conversant  with  Pythagoras  ; for  in  the 
philosopny  of  the  one,  as  in  the  policy  of  the  other,  man’s  re- 
lations to  the  deity  occupy  a great  place.  It  is  said,  also, 
that  the  solemnity  of  his  exterior  garb  and  gestures  was 
adopted  by  him  from  the  same  feeling  with  Pythagoras.  For 
it  is  said  of  Pythagoras,  that  he  had  taught  an  eagle  to  come 
at  his  call,  and  stoop  down  to  him  in  its  flight ; and  that,  as 
he  passed  among  the  people  assembled  at  the  Olympic  games, 


NUMA  POMPILIUS., 


xo6 

he  showed  them  his  golden  thigh  ; besides  many  other  strange 
and  miraculous  seeming  practices,  on  which  Timon  the 
Philasian  wrote  the  distich, — 

Who,  of  the  glory  of  a juggler  proud, 

With  solemn  talk  imposed  upon  the  crowd. 

In  like  manner  Numa  spoke  of  a certain  goddess  or  mountain 
nymph  that  was  in  love  with  him,  and  met  him  in  secret,  as 
before  related ; and  professed  that  he  entertained  familiar 
conversation  with  the  Muses,  to  whose  teaching  he  ascribed 
the  greatest  part  of  his  revelations ; and  amongst  them, 
above  all,  he  recommended  to  the  veneration  of  the  Romans 
one  in  particular,  whom  he  named  Tacita,  the  silent ; which 
he  did  perhaps  in  imitation  and  honor  of  the  Pythagorean 
silence.  His  opinion,  also,  of  images  is  very  agreeable  to  the 
doctrine  of  Pythagoras  ; who  conceived  of  the  first  principle 
of  being  as  transcending  sense  and  passion,  invisible  and  in- 
corrupt, and  only  to  be  apprehended  by  abstract  intelligence. 
So  Numa  forbade  the  Romans  to  represent  God  in  the  form 
of  man  or  beast,  nor  was  there  any  painted  or  graven  image 
of  a deity  admitted  amongst  them  for  the  space  of  the  first 
hundred  and  seventy  years,  all  which  time  their  temples  and 
chapels  were  kept  free  and  pure  from  images  ; to  such  baser 
objects  they  deemed  it  impious  to  liken  the  highest,  and  all 
access  to  God  impossible,  except  by  the  pure  act  of  the  intel- 
lect. His  sacrifices,  also,  had  great  similitude  to  the  cere- 
monial of  Pythagoras,  for  they  were  not  celebrated  with  ef- 
fusion of  blood,  but  consisted  of  flour,  wine,  and  the  least 
costly  offerings.  Other  external  proofs,  too,  are  urged  to 
show  the  connection  Numa  had  with  Pythagoras.  The  comic 
writer  Epicharmus,  an  ancient  author,  and  of  the  school  of 
Pythagoras,  in  a book  of  his  dedicated  to  Antenor,  records 
that  Pythagoras  was  made  a freeman  of  Rome.  Again,  Numa 
gave  to  one  of  his  four  sons  the  name  of  Mamercus,  which  was 
the  name  of  one  of  the  sons  of  Pythagoras ; from  whence,  as 
they  say,  sprang  that  ancient  patrician  family  of  the  ^milii,  fci 
that  the  king  gave  him  in  sport  the  surname  of  ^milius,  for 
his  engaging  and  graceful  manner  in  speaking.  I remember, 
too,  that  when  I was  at  Rome,  I heard  many  say,  that,  when 
the  oracle  directed  two  statues  to  be  raised,  one  to  the  wisest, 
and  another  to  the  most  valiant  man  in  Greece,  they  erected 
two  of  brass,  one  representing  Alcibiades,  and  the  other 
Pythagoras. 

But  to  pass  by  these  matters,  which  are  full  of  uncertainty 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


107 


and  not  so  important  as  to  be  worth  our  time  to  insist  on 
them,  the  original  constitution  of  the  priests,  called  Pontihces, 
is  ascribed  unto  Numa,  and  he  himself  was,  it  is  said,  the 
first  of  them  ; and  that  they  have  the  name  of  Pontifices  from 
potcfis^  powerful,  because  they  attend  the  service  of  the  gods, 
who  have  power  and  commarxi  over  all.  Others  make  the 
^ word  refer  to  exceptions  of  impossible  cases  ; the  priests  were 
to  perform  all  the  duties  possible  to  them  ; if  any  thing  lay 
beyond  their  power,  the  exception  was  not  to  be  cavilled  at. 
1'he  most  common  opinion  is  the  most  absurd,  which  derives 
this  word  from  pons^  and  assigns  the  priests  the  title  of 
bridge-makers.  The  sacrifices  performed  on  the  bridge  were 
amongst  the  most  sacred  and  ancient,  and  the  keeping  and 
repairing  of  the  bridge  attached,  like  any  other  public  sacred 
office,  to  the  priesthood.  It  was  accounted  not  simply  un- 
lawful, but  a positive  sacrilege,  to  pull  down  the  wooden 
bridge ; which  moreover  is  said,  in  obedience  to  an  oracle,  to 
have  been  built  entirely  of  timber  and  fastened  wfith  wooden 
pins,  without  nails  or  cramps  of  iron.  The  stone  bridge  was 
built  a very  long  time  after,  when  ^milius  was  quaestor,  and 
they  do,  indeed,  say  also  that  the  wooden  bridge  was  not  so 
old  as  Numa’s  time,  but  was  finished  by  Ancus  Marcius, 
when  he  was  king,  who  was  the  grandson  of  Numa  by  his 
daughter. 

The  office  of  Pontifex  Maximus,  or  chief  priest,  was  to 
declare  and  interpret  the  divine  law,  or,  rather,  to  preside 
over  sacred  rites  ; he  not  only  prescribed  rules  for  public 
ceremony,  but  regulated  the  sacrifices  of  private  persons,  not 
suffering  them  to  vary  from  established  custom,  and  giving 
information  to  every  one  of  what  was  requisite  for  purposes 
of  worship  or  supplication.  He  was  also  guardian  of  the 
vestal  virgins,  the  institution  of  whom,  and  of  their  perpetual 
fire,  was  attributed  to  Numa,  who,  perhaps,  fancied  the  charge 
of  pure  and  uncorrupted  flames  would  be  fitly  intrusted  to 
chaste  and  unpolluted  persons,  or  that  fire,  which  consumes, 
but  produces  nothing,  bears  an  analogy  to  the  virgin  estate. 
In  Greece,  wherever  a perpetual  holy  fire  is  kept,  as  at  Del- 
phi and  Athens,  the  charge  of  it  is  committed,  not  to  virgins, 
but  widows  past  the  time  of  marriage.  And  in  case  by  any 
accident  it  should  happen  that  this  fire  became  extinct,  as  the 
holy  lamp  was  at  Athens  under  the  tyranny  of  Aristion,  and 
at  Delphi,  when  that  temple  was  burnt  by  the  Medes,  as  also 
in  the  time  of  the  Mithridatic  and  Roman  civil  war,  when 
not  only  the  fire  was  extinguished,  but  the  altar  demolished. 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


io8 

then,  afterwards,  in  kindling  this  fire  again,  it  was  esteemed 
an  impiety  to  light  it  from  common  sparks  or  flame,  or  from 
any  thing  but  the  pure  and  unpolluted  rays  of  the  sun,  which 
they  usually  effect  by  concave  mirrors,  of  a figure  formed  by 
the  revolution  of  an  isosceles  rectangular  triangle,  all  the 
lines  from  the  circumference  of  which  meeting  in  a centre,  by 
holding  it  in  the  light  of  the  sun  they  can  collect  and  con- 
centrate all  its  rays  at  this  one  point  of  convergence ; where 
the  air  will  now  become  rarefied,  and  any  light,  dry,  combus- 
tible matter  will  kindle  as  soon  as  applied,  under  the  effect 
of  the  rays,  which  here  acquired  the  substance  and  active 
force  of  fire.  Some  are  of  opinion  that  these  vestals  had  no 
other  business  than  the  preservation  of  this  fire  ; but  others 
conceive  that  they  were  keepers  of  other  divine  secrets, 
concealed  from  all  but  themselves,  of  which  we  have  told 
all  that  may  lawfully  be  asked  or  told,  in  the  life  of  Camil- 
lus.  Gegania  and  Verenia,  it  is  recorded,  were  the  names  of 
the  first  two  virgins  consecrated  and  ordained  by  Numa^ 
Canuleia  and  Tarpeia  succeeded  ; Servius  afterwards  added 
two,  and  the  number  of  four  has  continued  to  the  present  time. 

The  statutes  prescribed  by  Numa  for  the  vestals  were 
these  : that  they  should  take  a vow  of  virginity  for  the  space 
of  thirty  years,  the  first  ten  of  which  they  were  to  spend  in 
learning  their  duties,  the  second  ten  in  performing  them,  and 
the  remaining  ten  in  teaching  and  instructing  others.  Thus 
the  whole  term  being  completed,  it  was  lawful  for  them  to 
marry,  and,  leaving  the  sacred  order,  to  choose  any  condition 
of  life  that  pleased  them  ; but  this  permission  few,  as  they 
say,  made  use  of ; and  in  cases  where  they  did  so,  it  was  ob- 
served that  their  change  was  not  a happy  one,  but  accom- 
panied ever  after  with  regret  and  melancholy;  so  that  the 
greater  number,  from  religious  fears  and  scruples,  forbore, 
and  continued  to  old  age  and  death  in  the  strict  observance 
of  a single  life. 

For  this  condition  he  compensated  by  great  privileges  and 
prerogatives;  as  that  they  had  power  to  make  a will  in  the 
lifetime  of  their  father ; that  they  had  a free  administration 
of  their  own  affairs  without  guardian  or  tutor,  which  was  the 
privilege  of  women  who  were  the  mothers  of  three  children ; 
when  they  go  abroad,  they  have  the  fasces  carried  before 
them  ; and  if  in  their  walks  they  chance  to  meet  a criminal 
on  his  way  to  execution,  it  saves  his  life,  upon  oath  made 
that  the  meeting  was  an  accidental  one,  and  not  concerted  or 
of  set  purpose.  Any  one  who  presses  upon  the  chair  or 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


109 

which  they  are  carried,  is  put  to  death.  If  these  vestals  com- 
mit any  minor  fault,  they  are  punishable  by  the  high-priest 
only,  who  scourges  the  offender,  sometimes  with  her  clothes 
off," in  a dark  place,  with  a curtain  drawn  between  ; but  she 
that  has  broken  her  vow  is  buried  alive  near  the  gate  called 
Collina,  where  a little  mound  of  earth  stands,  inside  the  city, 
reaching  some  little  distance,  called  in  Latin  agger ; under  it 
a narrow  room  is  constructed,  to  which  a descent  is  made  by 
stairs ; here  they  prepare  a bed,  and  light  a lamp,  and  leave 
a small  quantity  of  victuals,  such  as  bread,  water,  a pail  of 
milk,  and  some  oil ; that  so  that  body  which  had  been  conse- 
crated and  devoted  to  the  most  sacred  service  of  religion 
might  not  be  said  to  perish  by  such  a death  as  famine.  The 
culprit  herself  is  put  in  a litter,  which  they  cover  over,  and 
tie  her  down  with  cords  on  it,  so  that  nothing  she  utters  may 
be  heard.  They  then  take  her  to  the  forum  ; all  people 
silently  go  out  of  the  way  as  she  passes,  and  such  as  follow 
accompany  the  bier  with  solemn  and  speechless  sorrow  ; and, 
indeed,  there  is  not  any  spectacle  more  appalling,  nor  any 
day  observed  by  the  city  with  greater  appearance  of  gloom 
and  sadness.  When  they  come  to  the  place  of  execution, 
the  officers  loose  the  cords,  and  then  the  high-priest,  lifting 
his  hands  to  heaven,  pronounces  certain  prayers  to  himself 
before  the  act ; then  he  brings  out  the  prisoner,  being  still 
covered,  and  placing  her  upon  the  steps  that  lead  down  to  the 
cell,  turns  away  his  face  with  the  rest  of  the  priests ; the 
stairs  are  drawn  up  after  she  has  gone  down,  and  a quantity 
of  earth  is  heaped  up  over  the  entrance  to  the  cell,  so  as  to 
prevent  it  from  being  distinguished  from  the  rest  of  the 
mound.  This  is  the  punishment  of  those  who  break  their 
vow  of  virginity. 

It  is  said,  also,  that  Numa  built  the  temple  of  Vesta, 
which  was  intended  for  a repository  of  the  holy  fire,  of  a cir- 
cular form,  not  to  represent  the  figure  of  the  earth,  as  if 
that  were  the  same  as  Vesta,  but  that  of  the  general  universe, 
in  the  centre  of  which  the  Pythagoreans  place  the  element 
of  fire,  and  give  it  the  name  of  Vesta  and  the  unit;  and  do 
not  hold  that  the  earth  is  immovable,  or  that  it  is  situated  in 
the  centre  of  the  globe,  but  that  it  keeps  a circular  motion 
about  the  seat  of  hre,  and  is  not  in  the  number  of  the  pri- 
mary elements  . in  this  agreeing  with  the  opinion  of  Plato, 
who,  they  say,  in  his  iater  life,  conceived  that  the  earth  held 
a lateral  position,  and  that  the  central  and  sovereign  space 
was  reserved  for  some  nobler  body. 


XIO 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


There  was  yet  a farther  use  of  the  priests,  and  that  was 
to  give  people  directions  in  the  national  usages  at  funeral 
rites.  Numa  taught  them  to  regard  these  offices,  not  as  a 
pollution,  but  as  a duty  paid  to  the  gods  below,  into  whose 
hands  the  better  part  of  us  is  transmitted ; especially  they 
were  to  worship  the  goddess  Libitina,  who  presided  over  all 
the  ceremonies  performed  at  burials ; whether  they  meant 
hereby  Proserpina,  or,  as  the  most  learned  of  the  Romans 
conceive,  Venus,  not  inaptly  attributing  the  beginning  and 
end  of  man’s  life  to  the  agency  of  one  and  the  same  deity. 
Numa  also  prescribed  rules  for  regulating  the  days  of  mourn- 
ing, according  to  certain  times  and  ages.  As,  for  example^ 
a child  of  three  years  was  not  to  be  mourned  for  at  all ; one 
older,  up  to  ten  years,  for  as  many  months  as  it  was  years 
old ; and  the  longest  time  of  mourning  for  any  person  what- 
soever was  not  to  exceed  the  term  of  ten  months  ; which  was 
the  time  appointed  for  women  that  lost  their  husbands  to 
continue  in  widowhood.  If  any  married  again  before  that 
time,  by  the  laws  of  Numa  she  was  to  sacrifice  a cow  big 
with  calf. 

Numa,  also,  was  founder  of  several  other  orders  of  priests, 
two  of  which  I shall  mention,  the  Salii  and  the  Feciales, 
which  are  among  the  clearest  proofs  of  the  devoutness  and 
sanctity  of  his  character.  These  Fecials,  or  guardians  of 
peace,  seem  to  have  had  their  name  from  their  office,  which 
was  to  put  a stop  to  disputes  by  conference  and  speech ; 
for  it  was  not  allowable  to  take  up  arms  until  they  had 
declared  all  hopes  of  accommodation  to  be  at  an  end, 
for  in  Greek,  too,  we  call  it  peace  when  disputes  are  settled 
by  words,  and  not  by  force.  The  Romans  commonly  de- 
spatched the  Fecials,  or  heralds,  to  those  who  had  offered 
them  injury,  requesting  satisfaction ; and,  in  case  they  re- 
fused, they  then  called  the  gods  to  witness,  and,  with  impre- 
cations upon  themselves  and  their  country  should  they  be 
acting  unjustly,  so  declared  war ; against  their  will,  or  with- 
out their  consent,  it  was  lawful  neither  for  soldier  nor  king 
to  take  up  arms  ; the  war  was  begun  with  them,  and  when 
they  had  first  handed  it  over  to  the  commander  as  a just 
quairel,  then  his  business  was  to  deliberate  of  the  manner 
and  ways  to  carry  it  on.  It  is  believed  that  the  slaughter 
and  destruction  which  the  Gauls  made  of  the  Romans  was  a 
judgment  on  the  city  for  neglect  of  this  religious  proceeding  ; 
for  that  when  these  barbarians  besieged  the  Clusinians, 
Fabius  Ambustus  was  despatched  to  their  camp  to  negotiate 


AUMA  POMPILIUS. 


Ill 


peace  for  the  besieged  ; and,  on  their  returning  a rude  refusal, 
Fabius  imagined  that  his  office  of  ambassador  was  at  an  end, 
and,  rashly  engaging  on  the  side  of  the  Clusinians,  challenged 
the  bravest  of  the  enemy  to  a single  combat.  It  was  the 
fortune  of  Fabius  to  kill  his  adversary,  and  to  take  his  spoils  ; 
but  when  the  Gauls  discovered  it,  they  sent  a herald  to  Rome 
to  complain  against  him  ; since,  before  war  was  declared,  he 
had,  against  the  law  of  nations,  made  a breach  of  the  peace. 
The  matter  being  debated  in  the  senate,  the  Fecials  were  of 
opinion  that  Fabius  ought  to  be  consigned  into  the  hands  of 
the  Gauls ; but  he,  being  forewarned  of  their  judgment,  fled 
to  the  people,  by  whose  protection  and  favor  he  escaped  the 
sentence.  On  this,  the  Gauls  marched  with  their  army  to 
Rome,  where  having  taken  the  capitol,  they  sacked  the  city. 
The  particulars  of  all  which  are  fully  given  in  the  history  of 
Camillus. 

The  origin  of  the  Salii  is  this.  In  the  eighth  year  of  the 
reign  of  Numa,  a terrible  pestilence,  which  traversed  all  Italy, 
ravaged  likewise  the  city  of  Rome ; and  the  citizens  being  in 
distress  and  despondent,  a brazen  target,  they  say,  fell  from 
heaven  into  hands  of  Numa,  who  gave  them  this  marvellous 
account  of  it : that  Egeria  and  the  Muses  had  assured  him 
it  was  sent  from  heaven  for  the  cure  and  safety  of  the  city, 
and  that,  to  keep  it  secure,  he  was  ordered  by  them  to  make 
eleven  others,  so  like  in  dimensions  and  form  to  the  original 
that  no  thief  should  be  able  to  distinguish  the  true  from  the 
counterfeit.  He  farther  declared,  that  he  was  commanded  to 
consecrate  to  the  Muses  the  place,  and  the  fields  about  it, 
where  they  had  been  chiefly  wont  to  meet  with  him,  and  that 
the  spring  which  watered  the  fields  should  be  hallowed  for  the 
use  of  the  vestal  virgins,  who  were  to  wash  and  cleanse  the 
penetralia  of  their  sanctuary  with  those  holy  waters.  The 
truth  of  all  which  was  speedily  verified  by  the  cessation  of 
the  pestilence.  Numa  displayed  the  target  to  the  artificers, 
and  bade  them  show  their  skill  in  making  others  like  it;  all 
j despaired,  until  at  length  one  Mamurius  Veturius,  an  excel- 
’ lent  workman,  happily  hit  upon  it,  and  made  all  so  exactly  the 
same  that  Numa  himself  was  at  a loss,  and  could  not  distin- 
guish. The  keeping  of  these  targets  was  committed  to  the 
charge  of  certain  priests,  called  Salii,  who  did  not  receive 
their  name,  as  some  tell  the  story,  from  Salius,  a dancing- 
master,  born  in  Samothrace,  or  at  Mantinea,  who  taught  the 
way  of  dancing  in  arms  ; but  more  truly  from  that  jumping 
dance  which  the  Salii  themselves  use,  when  in  the  month  of 


II2 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


March  they  carry  the  sacred  targets  through  the  city ; at 
which  procession  they  are  habited  in  short  frocks  of  pur- 
ple, girt  with  a broad  belt  studded  with  brass  ; on  their  heads 
they  wear  a brass  helmet,  and  carry  in  their  hands  short  dag- 
gers, which  they  clash  every  now  and  then  against  the  targets. 
But  the  chief  thing  is  the  dance  itself.  They  move  with  much 
grace,  performing,  in  quick  time  and  close  order,  various  in- 
tricate figures,  with  a great  display  of  strength  and  agility. 
^J'he  targets  were  called  Ancilia  from  their  form ; for  they  are 
not  made  round,  nor  like  proper  targets,  of  a complete  cir- 
cumference, but  are  cut  out  into  a wavy  line,  the  ends  of 
which  are  rounded  off  and  turned  in  at  the  thickest  part  to- 
wards each  other ; so  that  their  shape  is  curvilinear,  or  in 
Greek,  ancylon  ; or  the  name  may  come  from  a7icon^  the  elbow, 
on  which  they  are  carried.  Thus  Juba  writes,  who  is  eager 
to  make  it  Greek.  But  it  might  be  for  that  matter,  from  its 
having  come  down  anecathen^  from  above  ; or  from  its  akesis, 
or  cure  of  diseases  ; or  aiichmoji  lysis ^ because  it  put  an  end 
to  a drought ; or  from  its  anaschesis^  or  relief  from  calamities, 
which  is  the  origin  of  the  Athenian  name  Anaces,  given  to 
Castor  and  Pollux ; if  we  must,  that  is,  reduce  it  to  Greek. 
The  reward  which  Mamurius  received  for  his  art  was  to  be 
mentioned  and  commemorated  in  the  verses  which  the  Salii 
sang,  as  they  danced  in  their  arms  through  the  city ; though 
some  will  have  it  that  they  do  not  say  Veturium  Mamurium, 
but  Veterem  Memoriam,  ancient  remembrance. 

After  Numa  had  in  this  manner  instituted  these  several 
orders  of  priests,  he  erected,  near  the  temple  of  Vesta,  what 
is  called  to  this  day  Regia,  or  king’s  house,  where  he  spent 
the  most  part  of  his  time,  performing  divine  service,  instruct- 
ing the  priests,  or  conversing  with  them  on  sacred  subjects. 
He  had  another  house  upon  the  Mount  Quirinalis,  the  s-ite  of 
which  they  show  to  this  day.  In  all  public  processions  and 
solemn  prayers,  criers  were  sent  before  to  give  notice  to  the 
people  that  they  should  forbear  their  work,  and  rest.  They 
say  that  the  Pythagoreans  did  not  allow  people  to  worship 
and  pray  to  their  gods  by  the  way,  but  would  have  them  go 
out  from  their  houses  direct,  with  their  minds  set  upon  the 
duty,  and  so  Numa,  in  like  manner,  wished  that  his  citizens 
should  neither  see  nor  hear  any  religious  service  in  a per- 
functory and  inattentive  manner,  but,  laying  aside  all  other 
occupations,  should  apply  their  minds  to  religion  as  to  a most 
serious  business  ; and  that  the  streets  should  be  free  from  all 
noises  and  cries  that  accompany  manual  labor,  and  clear  for 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


1 13 

the  sacred  solemnity.  Some  traces  of  this  custom  remain  at 
Rome  to  this  day,  for,  when  the  consul  begins  to  take  auspi- 
ces or  do  sacrifice,  they  call  out  to  the  people,  Hoc  age^  At- 
tend to  this,  whereby  the  auditors  then  present  are  admonish- 
ed to  compose  and  recollect  themselves.  Many  other  ot  his  pre- 
cepts resemble  those  of  the  Pythagoreans.  The  Pythagoreans 
said,  for  example,  “ Thou  shalt  not  make  a peck-measure  thy 
seat  to  sit  on.  Thou  shalt  not  stir  the  fire  with  a sword.  When 
thou  goest  out  upon  a journey,  look  not  behind  thee.  When  thou 
sacrificest  to  the  celestial  gods,  let  it  be  with  an  odd  number, 
and  when  to  the  terrestrial,  with  even.’’  The  significance  of 
each  of  which  precepts  they  would  not  commonly  disclose. 
So  some  of  Numa’s  traditions  have  no  obvious  meaning. 
“ Thou  shalt  not  make  libation  to  the  gods  of  wine  from  an 
unpruned  vine.  No  sacrifices  shall  be  performed  without 
meal.  Turn  round  to  pay  adoration  to  the  gods  ; sit  after 
you  have  worshipped.”  The  first  two  directions  seem  to  de- 
note the  cultivation  and  subduing  of  the  earth  as  a part  of 
religion  ; and  as  to  the  turning  which  the  worshippers  are  to 
use  in  divine  adoration,  it  is  said  to  represent  the  rota- 
tory motion  of  the  world.  But,  in  my  opinion,  the  meaning 
rather  is,  that  the  worshipper,  since  the  temples  front  the 
east,  enters  with  his  back  to  the  rising  sun  ; there,  faces 
round  to  the  east,  and  so  turns  back  to  the  god  of  the  temple, 
by  this  circular  movement  referring  the  fulfilment  of  his  pray- 
ers to  both  divinities.  Unless,  indeed,  this  change  of  posture 
may  have  a mystical  meaning,  like  the  Egyptian  wheels,  and 
signify  to  us  the  instability  of  human  fortune,  and  that,  in 
whatever  way  God  changes  and  turns  our  lot  and  condition, 
we  should  rest  contented,  and  accept  it  as  right  and  fitting. 
They  say,  also,  that  the  sitting  after  worship  was  to  be  by 
way  of  omen  of  their  petitions  being  granted,  and  the  bless- 
ing they  asked  assured  to  them.  Again,  as  different  courses 
of  actions  are  divided  by  intervals  of  rest,  they  might  seat 
themselves  after  the  completion  of  what  they  had  dcte.  to 
seek  favor  of  the  gods  for  beginning  something  else.  And 
this  would  very  well  suit  with  what  we  had  before  ; the  law- 
giver wants  to  habituate  us  to  make  our  petitions  to  the  deity 
not  by  the  way,  and  as  it  were,  in  a hurry,  when  we  have 
other  things  to  do,  but  with  time  and  leisure  to  attend  to  it. 
By  such  discipline  and  schooling  in  religion,  the  city  passed 
insensibly  into  such  a submissiveness  of  temper,  and  stood  in 
such  awe  and  reverence  of  the  virtue  of  Numa,  that  they  re- 
ceived, with  an  undoubted  assurance,  whatever  he  delivered. 

8 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


II4 

though  never  so  fabulous,  and  thought  nothing  incredible  01 
impossible  from  him. 

There  goes  a story  that  he  once  invited  a great  number 
of  citizens  to  an  entertainment,  at  which  the  dishes  in  which 
the  meat  was  served  were  very  homely  and  plain,  and  the  re- 
past itself  poor  and  ordinary  fare  ; the  guests  seated,  he  be- 
gan to  tell  them  that  the  goddess  that  consulted  with  him  was 
then  at  that  time  come  to  him ; when  on  a sudden  the  room 
was  furnished  with  all  sorts  of  costly  drinking-vessels,  and 
the  tables  loaded  with  rich  meats,  and  a most  sumptuous  en- 
tertainment. But  the  dialogue  which  is  reported  to  have 
passed  between  him  and  Jupiter  surpasses  all  the  fabulous 
legends  that  were  ever  invented.  They  say  that  before  Mount 
Aventine  was  inhabited  or  enclosed  within  the  walls  of  the 
city,  two  demigods,  Picus  and  Faunus,  frequented  the  springs 
and  thick  shades  of  that  place ; which  might  be  two  satyrs,  or 
Pans,  except  that  they  went  about  Italy  playing  the  same  sorts 
of  tricks,  by  skill  in  drugs  and  magic,  as  are  ascribed  by  the 
Greeks  to  the  Dactyli  of  Mount  Ida.  Numa  contrived  one 
day  to  surprise  these  demi-gods,  by  mixing  wine  and  honey 
in  the  waters  of  the  spring  of  which  they  usually  drank.  On 
finding  themselves  ensnared,  they  changed  themselves. into 
various  shapes,  dropping  their  own  form  and  assuming  every 
kind  of  unusual  and  hideous  appearance  ; but  when  they  saw 
they  were  safely  entrapped,  and  in  no  possibility  of  getting 
free,  they  revealed  to  him  many  secrets  and  future  events  ; 
and  particularly  a charm  for  thunder  and  lightning,  still  in 
use,  performed  with  onions  and  hair  and  pilchards.  Some 
say  they  did  not  tell  him  the  charm,  but  by  their  magic 
brought  down  Jupiter  out  of  heaven  ; and  that  he  then,  in  an 
angry  manner  answering  the  inquiries,  told  Numa,  that,  if  he 
would  charm  the  thunder  and  lightning,  he  must  do  it  with 
heads.  “ How,”  said  Numa,  “ with  the  heads  of  onions  ? 
^‘No,”  replied  Jupiter,  “of  men.”  But  Numa,  willing  to 
elude  the  cruelty  of  this  receipt,  turned  it  another  way,  say- 
ing, “ Your  meaning  is,  the  hairs  of  men’s  heads.”  “ No,” 

replied  Jupiter,  “ with  living” “ pilchards,”  said  Numa, 

interrupting  him.  These  answers  he  had  learnt  from  Egeria. 
Jupiter  returned  again  to  heaven,  pacified  an  or  pro- 
pitious. The  place  was,  in  remembrance  of  him,  called  Ilici- 
um,  from  this  Greek  word  ; and  the  spell  in  this  manner 
effected. 

These  stories,  laughable  as  they  are,  show  us  the  feelings 
which  people  then,  by  force  of  habit,  entertained  towards  the 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


deity.  And  Numa’s  own  thoughts  are  sa‘d  to  have  been 
fixed  to  that  degree  on  divine  objects,  that  he  once,  when  a 
message  v/as  brought  to  him  that  “ Enemies  are  approach- 
ing,’’ answered  with  a smile,  “ And  I am  sacrificing.”  It  was 
he,  also,  that  built  the  temples  of  Faith  and  Terminus,  and 
taught  the  Romans  that  the  name  of  Faith  was  the  most 
solemn  oath  that  they  could  swear.  They  still  use  it ; and  to 
the  god  Terminus,  or  Boundary,  they  offer  to  this  day  both  pul)- 
lie  and  private  sacrifices,  upon  the  borders  and  stone-marks  o{ 
their  land ; living  victims  now,  though  anciently  those  sacrifices 
were  solemnized  without  blood  ; for  Numa  reasoned  that  the 
god  of  boundaries,  who  watched  over  peace,  and  testified  to 
fair  dealing,  should  have  no  concern  with  blood.  It  is  very 
clear  that  it  was  this  king  who  first  prescribed  bounds  to  the 
territory  of  Rome  ; for  Romulus  would  but  have  openly  be- 
trayed how  much  he  had  encroached  on  his  neighbors’  lands, 
had  he  ever  set  limits  to  his  own  ; for  boundaries  are,  indeed, 
a defence  to  those  who  choose  to  observe  them,  but  are  only 
a testimony  against  the  dishonesty  of  those  who  break 
through  them.  The  truth  is,  the  portion  of  lands  which  the 
Romans  possessed  at  the  beginning  was  very  narrow,  until 
Romulus  enlarged  them  by  war ; all  those  acquisitions  Numa 
now  divided  amongst  the  indigent  commonalty,  wishing  to  do 
away  with  that  extreme  want  which  is  a compulsion  to  dis- 
honesty, and,  by  turning  the  people  to  husbandry,  to  bring 
them,  as  well  as  their  lands,  into  better  order.  For  there  is 
no  employment  that  gives  so  keen  and  quick  a relish  for  peace 
as  husbandry  and  a country  life,  which  leave  in  men  all  that 
kind  of  courage  that  makes  them  ready  to  fight  in  defence  of 
their  own,  while  it  destroys  the  license  that  breaks  out  into 
acts  of  injustice  and  rapacity.  Numa,  therefore,  hoping  agri- 
culture would  be  a sort  of  charm  to  captivate  the  affections 
of  his  people  to  peace,  and  viewing  it  rather  as  a means  to 
moral  than  to  economical  profit,  divided  all  the  lands  into  sev- 
eral parcels,  to  which  be  gave  the  name  of  pagiis^  or  parish, 
and  over  every  one  of  them  he  ordained  chief  overseers  \ 
and,  taking  a delight  sometimes  to  inspect  his  colonies  in 
person,  he  formed  his  judgment  of  every  man’s  habits  by 
the  results ; of  which  being  witness  himself,  he  preferred  those 
to  honors  and  employments  who  had  done  well,  and  by  re- 
bukes and  reproaches  incited  the  indolent  and  careless  to  im- 
provement. But  of  all  his  measures  the  most  commended 
was  his  distribution  of  the  people  by  their  trades  into  com- 
panies or  guilds ; for  as  the  city  consisted,  or  rather  did  no! 


ri6 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


consist  of,  but  was  divided  into,  two  different  tribes,  the  diver- 
sity between  which  could  not  be  effaced  and  in  the  mean 
time  prevented  all  unity  and  caused  perpetual  tumult  and  ilh 
blood,  reflecting  how  hard  substances  that  do  not  readily  mix 
when  in  the  lump  may,  by  being  beaten  into  powder,  in  that 
minute  form  be  combined,  he  resolved  to  divide  the  whole 
population  into  a number  of  small  divisions,  and  thus  hoped, 
by  introducing  other  distinctions,  to  obliterate  the  original 
and  great  distinction,  which  would  be  lost  among  the  smaller. 
So,  distinguishing  the  whole  people  by  the  several  arts  and 
trades,  he  formed  the  companies  of  musicians,  goldsmiths, 
carpenters,  dyers,  shoemakers,  skinners,  braziers,  and  potters  ; 
and  all  other  handicraftsmen  he  composed  and  reduced  into 
a single  company,  appointing  every  one  their  proper  courts, 
councils,  and  religious  observances,  In  this  manner  all  fac- 
tious distinctions  began,  for  the  first  time,  to  pass  out  of  use, 
no  person  any  longer  being  either  thought  of  or  spoken  of 
under  the  notion  of  a Sabine  or  a Roman,  a Romulian  or  a 
Tatian ; and  the  new  division  became  a source  of  general 
harmony  and  intermixture. 

He  is  also  much  to  be  commended  for  the  repeal,  or  rather 
amendment,  of  that  law  which  gives  power  to  fathers  to  sell 
their  children ; he  exempted  such  as  were  married,  condition- 
ally that  it  had  been  with  the  liking  and  consent  of  their  pa- 
rents ; for  it  seemed  a hard  thing  that  a woman  who  had  given 
herself  in  marriage  to  a man  whom  she  judged  free  should 
afterwards  find  herself  living  with  a slave. 

He  attempted,  also,  the  formation  of  a calendar,  not  with 
absolute  exactness,  yet  not  without  some  scientific  knowledge. 
During  the  reign  of  Romulus,  they  had  let  their  months  run 
on  without  any  certain  or  equal  term  ; some  of  them  contained 
twenty  days,  others  thirty-five,  others  more;  they  had  no. sort 
of  knowledge  of  the  inequality  in  the  motions  of  the  sun  and 
moon ; they  only  kept  to  the  one  rule  that  the  \vhole  course 
of  the  year  contained  three  hundred  and  sixty  days.  Numa, 
calculating  the  difference  between  the  lunar  and  the  solar 
year  at  eleven  days,  for  that  the  moon  completed  her  anni- 
versary course  in  three  hundred  and  fifty-four  days,  and  the 
sun  in  three  hundred  and  sixty-five,  to  remedy  this  incongru- 
ity doubled  the  eleven  days,  and  every  other  year  added  an 
intercalary  month,  to  follow  February,  consisting  of  twenty- 
two  days,  and  called  by  the  Romans  the  month  Mercedi- 
nus.  This  amendment,  however,  itself,  in  course  of  time, 
came  \o  need  other  amendments.  He  also  altered  the  order 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


117 


of  the  months  ; for  March,  which  was  reckoned  the  first,  he 
put  into  the  third  place  ; and  January,  which  was  the  eleventh, 
he  made  the  first ; and  February,  which  was  the  twelfth  and 
last,  the  second.  Many  will  have  it,  that  it  was  Numa,  also, 
who  added  the  two  months  of  January  and  February  ; for  in 
the  beginning  they  had  had  a year  of  ten  months  ; as  there 
are  barbarians  who  count  only  three  ; the  Arcadians,  in 
Greece,  had  but  four  ; the  Acarnanians,  six.  The  Egyptian 
year  at  first,  they  say,  was  of  one  month  ; afterwards,  of  four  ; 
and  so,  though  they  live  in  the  newest  of  all  countries,  they 
have  the  credit  of  being  a more  ancient  nation  than  any,  and 
reckon,  in  their  genealogies,  a prodigious  number  of  years, 
counting  months,  that  is,  as  years.  That  the  Romans,  at 
first,  comprehended  the  whole  year  within  ten,  and  not  twelve 
months,  plainly  appears  by  the  name  of  the  last,  December, 
meaning  the  tenth  month  ; and  that  March  was  the  first  is 
likewise  evident,  for  the  fifth  month  after  it  was  called  Quin- 
tills,  and  the  sixth  Sextilis,  and  so  the  rest;  whereas,  if  Janu- 
ary and  February  had,  in  this  account,  preceded  March, 
Quintilis  would  have  been  fifth  in  name  and  seventh  in  reck- 
oning. It  was  also  natural  that  March,  dedicated  to  Mars, 
should  be  Romulus’s  first,  and  April,  named  from  Venus,  or 
Aphrodite,  his  second  month  ; in  it  they  sacrifice  to  Venus, 
and  the  women  bathe  on  the  calends,  or  first  day  of  it,  with 
myrtle  garlands  on  their  heads.  But  others,  because  of  its 
being  / and  not  ///,  will  not  allow  of  the  derivation  of  this 
word  from  Aphrodite,  but  say  it  is  called  April  from  aperio^ 
Latin  for  to  open,  because  that  this  month  is  high  spring,  and 
opens  and  discloses  the  buds  and  flowers.  The  next  is  called 
May,  from  Maia,  the  mother  of  Mercury,  to  whom  it  is 
sacred  ; then  June  follows,  so  called  from  Juno  ; some,  how- 
ever, derive  them  from  the  two  ages,  old  and  young,  majo7'es^ 
being  their  name  for  older,  and  juniores  for  younger  men.  To 
the  other  months  they  gave  denominations  according  to  their 
order  ; so  the  fifth  was  called  Quintilis,  Sextilis  the  sixth,  and 
the  rest,  September,  October,  November,  and  December. 
Afterwards  Quintilis  received  the  name  of  Julius,  from  Caesar, 
who  defeated  Pompey  ; as  also  Sextilis  that  of  Augustus,  from 
the  .second  Caesar,  who  had  that  title.  Domitian,  also,  in  imi- 
tation, gave  the  two  other  following  months  his  own  names, 
of  Gerrnanicus  and  Domitianus ; but,  on  his  being  slain,  they 
recovered  their  ancient  denominations  of  September  and  Oc- 
tober. The  two  last  are  the  only  ones  that  have  kept  their 
names  throughout  without  any  alteration.  Of  the  months 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


ii8 

which  were  added  or  transposed  in  their  order  by  Numa, 
February  comes  from  februa  ; and  is  as  much  as  Purification 
month ; in  it  they  make  offerings  to  the  dead,  and  celebrate 
the  Lupercalia,  which,  in  most  points,  resembles  a purification. 
January  was  so  called  from  Janus,  and  precedence  given  to  it 
by  Numa  before  March,  which  was  dedicated  to  the  god 
Mars  ; because,  as  I conceive,  he  wished  to  take  every  op- 
portunity of  intimating  that  the  arts  and  studies  of  peace  are 
to  be  preferred  before  those  of  war.  For  this  Janus,  whether 
in  remote  antiquity  he  were  a demigod  or  a king,  was  certainly 
a great  lover  of  civil  and  social  unity,  and  one  who  reclaimed 
men  from  brutal  and  savage  living  ; for  which  reason  they 
figure  him  with  two  faces,  to  represent  the  two  states  and 
conditions  out  of  the  one  of  which  he  brought  mankind,  to 
lead  them  into  the  other.  His  temple  at  Rome  has  two 
gates,  which  they  call  the  gates  of  war,  because  they  stand 
open  in  the  time  of  war,  and  shut  in  the  times  of  peace  , 
of  which  latter  there  was  very  seldom  an  example,  for,  as 
the  Roman  empire  was  enlarged  and  extended,  it  was  so  en- 
compassed with  barbarous  nations  and  enemies  to  be  resisted, 
that  it  was  seldom  or  never  at  peace.  Only  in  the  time  of 
Augustus  Caesar,  after  he  had  overcome  Antony,  this  temple 
was  shut ; as  likewise  once  before,  when  Marcus  Atilius  and 
Titus  Manlius  were  consuls  ; but  then  it  was  not  long  before, 
wars  breaking  out,  the  gates  were  again  opened.  But,  during 
the  reign  of  Numa,  those  gates  were  never  seen  open  a single 
day,  but  continued  constantly  shut  for  a space  of  forty-three 
years  together ; such  an  entire  and  universal  cessation  of  war 
existed.  For  not  only  had  the  people  of  Rome  itself  been 
softened  and  charmed  into  a peaceful  temper  by  the  just  and 
mild  rule  of  a pacific  prince,  but  even  the  neighboring  cities, 
as  if  some  salubrious  and  gentle  air  had  blown  from  Rome 
upon  them,  began  to  experience  a change  of  feeling,  and  par- 
took in  the  general  longing  for  the  sweets  of  peace  and  order, 
and  for  life  employed  in  the  quiet  tillage  of  soil,  bringing  up 
of  children,  and  worship  of  the  gods.  Festival  days  and 
sports,  and  the  secure  and  peaceful  interchange  of  friendly 
visits  and  hospitalities  prevailed  all  through  the  whole  of 
Italy.  The  love  of  virtue  and  justice  flowed  from  Numa’s 
wisdom  as  from  a fountain,  and  the  serenity  of  his  spirit  dif- 
fused itself,  like  a calm,  on  all  sides ; so  that  the  hyperboles 
of  poets  were  flat  and  tame  to  express  what  then  existed ; as 
that 

Over  the  iron  shield  the  spiders  hang  their  threads, 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


II9 


or  that 

Rust  eats  the  pointed  spear  and  double-edged  sword. 

No  more  is  heard  the  trumpet’s  brazen  roar, 

Sweet  sleep  is  banished  from  our  eyes  no  more. 

Fot;  during  the  whole  reign  of  Numa,  there  was  neither  war, 
nor  sedition,  nor  innovation  in  the  state,  nor  any  envy  or  ill- 
will  to  his  person,  nor  plot  or  conspiracy  from  views  of  am- 
bition. Either  fear  of  the  gods  that  were  thought  to  watch 
over  him,  or  reverence  for  his  virtue,  or  a divine  felicity  of 
fortune  that  in  his  days  preserved  human  innocence,  made 
his  reign,  by  whatever  means,  a living  example  and  verifica- 
tion of  that  saying  which  Plato,  long  afterwards,  ventured  to 
pronounce,  that  the  sole  and  only  hope  of  respite  or  remedy 
for  human  evils  was  in  some  happy  conjunction  of  events, 
which  should  unite  in  a single  person  the  power  of  a king  and 
the  wisdom  of  a philosopher,  so  as  to  elevate  virtue  to  con- 
trol and  mastery  over  vice.  The  wise  man  is  blessed  in 
himself,  and  blessed  also  are  the  auditors  who  can  hear  and 
receive  those  words  which  flow  from  his  mouth ; and  perhaps, 
too,  there  is  no  need  of  compulsion  or  menaces  to  affect  the 
multitude,  for  the  mere  sight  itself  of  a shining  and  conspic- 
uous example  of  virtue  in  the  life  of  their  prince  will  bring 
them  spontaneously  to  virtue,  and  to  a conformity  with  that 
blameless  and  blessed  life  of  good-will  and  mutual  concord, 
supported  by  temperance  and  justice,  which  is  the  highest 
benefit  that  human  means  can  confer ; and  he  is  the  truest 
ruler  who  can  best  introduce  it  into  the  hearts  and  practice  of 
his  subjects.  It  is  the  praise  of  Numa  that  no  one  seems 
ever  to  have  discerned  this  so  clearly  as  he. 

As  to  his  children  and  wives,  there  is  a diversity  of  reports 
by  several  authors  ; some  will  have  it  that  he  never  had  any 
other  wife  than  Tatia  ; nor  more  children  than  one  daughter 
called  Pompilia  ; others  will  have  it  that  he  left  also  four 
sons,  namely,  Pompo,  Pinus,  Calpus,  and  Mamercus,  every 
one  of  whom  had  issue,  and  from  them  descended  the  noble 
and  illustrious  families  of  Pomponii,  Pinarii,  Calpurnii,  and 
Mamerci,  which  for  this  reason  took  also  the  surname  of  Rex, 
or  King.  But  there  is  a third  set  of  writers  who  say  that 
these  pedigrees  are  but  a piece  of  flattery  used  by  writers 
who,  to  gain  favor  with  these  great  families,  made  them  ficti- 
tious genealogies  from  the  lineage  of  Numa ; and  that  Pom- 
pilia was  not  the  daughter  of  Tatia,  but  Lucretia,  another 
wife  whom  he  married  after  he  came  to  his  kingdom  ; how- 
ever, all  of  them  agree  in  opinion  that  she  was  married  to 


120 


NUMA  POMPILIUS. 


the  son  of  that  Marcius  who  persuaded  him  to  accept  the  gov 
ernment,  and  accompanied  him  to  Rome,  where,  as  a mark 
of  honor,  he  was  chosen  into  the  senate,  and  after  the  death 
of  Numa,  standing  in  competition  with  Tullus  Ilostiliiis  for 
the  kingdom,  and  being  disappointed  of  the  election,  in  discon- 
tent killed  himself ; his  son  Marcius,  however,  who  had  mar- 
ried Pompilia,  contiruing  at  Rome,  was  the  father  of  Ancus 
Marcius,  who  succee  led  Tullus  Hostilius  in  the  kingdom,  and 
was  but  five  years  of  age  when  Numa  died. 

Numa  lived  something  above  eighty  years,  and  then,  as 
Piso  writes,  was  not  taken  out  of  the  world  by  a sudden  or 
acute  disease,  but  died  of  old  age  and  by  a gradual  and  gen- 
tle decline.  At  his  funeral  all  the  glories  of  his  life  were  con- 
summated, when  all  the  neighboring  states  in  alliance  and 
amity  with  Rome  met  to  honor  and  grace  the  rites  of  his  in- 
terment with  garlands  and  public  presents ; the  senators 
carried  the  bier  on  which  his  corpse  was  laid,  and  the  priests 
followed  and  accompanied  the  solemn  procession  ; while  a 
general  crowd,  in  which  women  and  children  took  part,  fol- 
lowed with  such  cries  and  weeping  as  if  they  had  bewailed 
the  death  and  loss  of  some  most  dear  relation  taken  away  in 
the  flower  of  age,  and  not  an  old  and  worn  out  king.  It 
is  said  that  his  body,  by  his  particular  command,  was  not  burnt, 
but  that  they  made,  in  conformity  with  his  order,  two  stone 
coffins,  and  buried  both  under  the  hill  Janiculum,  in  one  of 
which  his  body  was  laid,  and  the  other  his  sacred  books, 
which,  as  the  Greek  legislators  their  tables,  he  had  written 
out  for  himself,  but  had  so  long  inculcated  the  contents  of 
them,  whilst  he  lived,  into  the  minds  and  hearts  of  the  priests, 
that  their  understandings  became  fully  possessed  with  the 
whole  spirit  and  purpose  of  them;  and  he  therefore  bade 
that  they  should  be  buried  with  his  body,  as  though  such  holy 
precepts  could  not  without  irreverence  be  left  to  circulate  in 
mere  lifeless  writings.  For  this  very  reason,  they  say,  the 
Pythagoreans  bade  that  their  precepts  should  not  be  commit- 
ted to  paper,  but  rather  preserved  in  the  living  memories  of 
those  who  were  worthy  to  receive  them  ; and  when  some  of 
their  out-of-the-way  and  abstruse  geometrical  processes  had 
been  divulged  to  an  unworthy  person,  they  said  the  gods 
threatened  to  punish  this  wickedness  and  profanity  by  a signal 
and  wide-spreading  calamity.  With  these  several  instances 
concurring  to  show  a similarity  in  the  lives  of  Numa  and  Py- 
thagoras, we  may  easily  pardon  those  who  seek  to  establish 
the  fact  of  a real  acquaintance  between  them. 


COMPARISON  OF  NUMA  WITH  LYCURGUS. 


121 


Valerius  Antias  writes  that  the  books  which  were  buried  in 
the- aforesaid  chest  or  coffin  of  stone  were  twelve  volumes  of 
holy  writ  and  twelve  others  of  Greek  philosophy,  and  that 
about  four  hundred  years  afterwards,  when  P.  Cornelius  and 
M.  Bsebius  were  consuls,  in  a time  of  heavy  rains,  a violent 
torrent  washed  away  the  earth,  and  dislodged  the  chests  of 
stone ; and,  their  covers  falling  off,  one  of  them  was  found 
wholly  empty,  without  the  least  relic  of  any  human  body  ; in 
the  other  were  the  books  before  mentioned,  which  the  praetor 
Petilius  having  read  and  perused,  made  oath  in  the  senate, 
that,  in  his  opinion,  it  was  not  fit  for  their  contents  to  be  made 
public  to  the  people  ; whereupon  the  volumes  were  all  carried 
to  the  Comitium,  and  there  burnt. 

It  is  the  fortune  of  all  good  men  that  their  virtue  rises  in 
glory  after  their  deaths,  and  that  the  envy  which  evil  men  con- 
ceive against  them  never  outlives  them  long ; some  have  the 
happiness  even  to  see  it  die  before  them ; but  in  Numa’s  case, 
also,  the  fortunes  of  the  succeeding  kings  served  as  foils  to 
set  off  the  brightness  of  his  reputation.  For  after  him  there 
were  five  kings,  the  last  of  whom  ended  his  old  age  in  banish- 
ment, being  deposed  from  his  crown;  of  the  other  four,  three 
were  assassinated  and  murdered  by  treason;  the  other,  who  was 
Tullus  Hostilius,  that  immediately  succeeded  Numa,  derided 
his  virtues,  and  especially  his  devotion  to  religious  worship, 
as  a cowardly  and  mean-spirited  occupation,  and  diverted  the 
minds  of  the  people  to  war  ; but  was  checked  in  these  youthful 
insolences,  and  was  himself  driven  by  an  acute  and  tormenting 
disease  into  superstitions  wholly  different  from  Numa’s  piety, 
and  left  others  also  to  participate  in  these  terrors  when  he 
died  by  the  stroke  of  a thunderbolt 


COMPARISON  OF  NUMA  WITH  LY- 
CURGUS. 

Having  thus  finished  the  lives  of  Lycurgus  and  Numa, 
we  shall  now,  though  the  work  be  difficult,  put  together  their 
points  of  difference  as  they  lie  here  before  our  view.  Their 
points  of  likeness  are  obvious ; their  moderation  their  re 
ligion,  their  capacity  of  government  and  discipline,  their  both 
deriving  their  laws  and  constitutions  from  the  gods.  Yet  in 
their  common  glories  there  are  circumstances  of  diversity  ; 


122 


COMPARISON  OF  N UMA  WITH  LYCURGUS. 


for  first  Numa  accepted  and  Lycurgus  resigned  a kingdom  ; 
Numa  received  without  desiring  it,  Lycurgus  had  it  and  gave 
it  up  ; the  one  from  a private  person  and  a stranger  was 
raised  by  others  to  be  their  king ; the  other  from  the  condition 
of  a prince  voluntarily  descended  to  the  state  of  privacy. 
It  was  glorious  to  acquire  a throne  by  justice,  yet  more  glori- 
ous to  prefer  justice  before  a throne  ; the  same  virtue  which 
made  the  one  appear  worthy  of  regal  power  exalted  the 
other  to  the  disregard  of  it.  Lastly,  as  the  musicians  tune 
their  harps,  so  the  one  let  down  the  high-flown  spirits  of  the 
people  at  Rome  to  a lower  key,  as  the  other  screwed  them  up 
at  Sparta  to  a higher  note,  when  they  were  sunken  low  by 
dissoluteness  and  riot.  The  haider  task  was  that  of  Lycur- 
gus ; for  it  was  not  so  much  his  business  to  persuade  his 
citizens  to  put  off  their  armor  or  ungird  their  swords,  as  to 
cast  away  their  gold  or  silver,  and  abandon  costly  furniture 
and  rich  tables  ; nor  was  it  necessary  to  preach  to  them,  that, 
laying  aside  their  arms,  they  should  observe  the  festivals,  and 
sacrifice  to  the  gods,  but  rather,  that,  giving  up  feasting  and 
drinking,  they  should  employ  their  time  in  laborious  and 
martial  exercises  ; so  that  while  the  one  effected  all  by  per- 
suasions and  his  people’s  love  for  him,  the  other,  with  danger 
and  hazard  of  his  person,  scarcely  in  the  end  succeeded. 
Numa’s  muse  was  a gentle  and  loving  inspiration,  fitting 
him  well  to  turn  and  sooth  his  people  into  peace  and  justice 
out  of  their  violent  and  fiery  tempers  ; whereas,  if  we  must 
admit  the  treatment  of  the  Helots  to  be  a part  of  Lycur- 
gus’s  legislation,  a most  cruel  and  iniquitous  proceeding,  we 
must  own  that  Numa  was  by  a great  deal  the  more  humane 
and  Greek-like  legislator,  granting  even  to  actual  slaves  a 
license  to  sit  at  meat  with  their  masters  at  the  feast  of  Saturn, 
that  they  also  might  have  some  taste  and  relish  to  the  sweets 
of  liberty.  For  this  custom,  too,  is  ascribed  to  Numa,  whose 
wish  was,  they  conceive,  to  give  a place  in  the  enjoyment  of 
the  yearly  fruits  of  the  soil  to  those  who  had  helped  to  pro- 
duce them.  Others  will  have  it  to  be  in  remembrance  of 
the  age  of  Saturn,  when  there  was  no  distinction  between 
master  and  slave,  but  all  lived  as  brothers  and  as  equals  in 
a condition  of  equality. 

In  general,  it  seems  that  both  aimed  at  the  same  design 
and  intent,  which  was  to  bring  their  peop’e  to  moderation 
and  frugality  ; but  of  other  virtues,  the  one  set  his  affection 
most  on  fortitude,  and  the  other  on  justice ; unless  we  will 
attribute  their  different  ways  to  the  different  habits  and  tem 


COMPARISON  OF  NUMA  WnH  LYCURGUS.  123 

peraments  which  they  had  to  work  upon  by  their  enactments  ; 
for  Numa  did  not  out  of  cowardice  or  fear  affect  peace,  but 
because  he  would  not  be  guilty  of  injustice  ; nor  did  Lycur- 
gus  promote  a spirit  of  war  in  his  people  that  they  might  do 
injustice  to  others,  but  that  they  might  protect  themselves 
by  it. 

In  bringing  the  habits  they  formed  in  their  people  to  a 
just  and  happy  mean,  mitigating  them  where  they  exceeded, 
and  strengthening  them  where  they  were  deficient,  both  were 
compelled  to  make  great  innovations.  The  frame  of  govern- 
ment which  Numa  formed  was  democratic  and  popular  to  the 
last  extreme,  goldsmiths  and  flute-players  and  shoemakers 
constituting  his  promiscuous,  many  - colored  commonalty. 
Lycurgus  was  rigid  and  aristocratical,  banishing  all  the 
base  and  mechanic  arts  to  the  company  of  servants  and 
strangers,  and  allowing  the  true  citizens  no  implements  but 
the  spear  and  shield,  the  trade  of  war  only,  and  the  service 
of  Mars,  and  no  other  knowledge  or  study  but  that  of  obe- 
dience to  their  commanding  officers,  and  victory  over  their 
enemies.  Every  sort  of  money-making  was  forbid  them  as 
freemen ; and  to  make  them  thoroughly  so  and  keep  them  so 
through  their  whole  lives,  every  conceivable  concern  with 
money  was  handed  over,  with  the  cooking  and  the  waiting  at 
table,  to  slaves  and  helots.  But  Numa  made  none  of  these 
distinctions  ; he  only  suppressed  military  rapacity,  allowing 
free  scope  to  every  other  means  of  obtaining  wealth ; nor  did 
he  endeavor  to  do  away  with  inequality  in  this  respect,  but 
per#iitted  riches  to  be  amassed  to  any  extent,  and  paid  no 
attention  to  the  gradual  and  continual  augmentation  and  in- 
flux of  poverty;  which  it  was  his  business  at  the  outset, 
whilst  there  was  no  great  disparity  in  the  estates  of  men,  and 
whilst  people  still  lived  much  in  one  manner,  to  obviate,  as 
Lycurgus  did,  and  take  measures  of  precaution  against  the 
mischiefs  of  avarice,  mischiefs  not  of  small  importance,  but 
the  real  seed  and  first  beginning  of  all  the  great  and  exten- 
sive evils  of  after  times.  The  re-division  of  estates,  Lycurgus 
is  not,  it  seems  to  me,  to  be  blamed  for  making,  nor  Numa 
lor  omitting ; this  equality  was  the  basis  and  foundation  of  the 
one  commonwealth  ; but  at  Rome,  where  the  lands  had  been 
lately  divided,  there  was  nothing  to  urge  any  re-division  or 
any  disturbance  of  the  first  arrangement,  which  was  probably 
still  in  existence. 

With  respect  to  wives  and  children,  and  that  community 
which  both,  with  a sound  policy,  appointed,  to  prevent  aU 


124 


COMPARISON  OF  NUMA  WITH  LYCURGUS. 


jealousy,  their  methods,  however,  were  different.  For  when 
a Roman  thought  himself  to  have  a sufficient  number  of  chil- 
dren, in  case  his  neighbor  who  had  none  should  come  and 
request  his  wife  of  him,  he  had  a lawful  power  to  give  her  up 
to  him  who  desired  her,  either  for  a certain  time,  or  for  good. 
The  Lacedaemonian  husband,  on  the  other  hand,  might  allow 
the  use  of  his  wife  to  any  other  that  desired  to  have  children 
by  her,  and  yet  still  keep  her  in  his  house,  the  original  mar- 
riage obligation  still  subsisting  as  at  first.  Nay,  many  husbands, 
as  we  have  said,  would  invite  men  whom  they  thought  likely 
to  procure  them  fine  and  good  looking  children  into  their 
houses.  What  is  the  difference,  then,  between  the  two  cus- 
toms ? Shall  we  say  that  the  Lacedaemonian  system  is  one 
of  an  extreme  and  entire  unconcern  about  their  wives,  and 
would  cause  most  people  endless  disquiet  and  annoyance 
with  pangs  and  jealousies  ? the  Roman  course  wears  an  air 
of  a more  delicate  acquiescence,  draws  the  veil  of  a new  con- 
tract over  the  change,  and  concedes  the  general  insupport- 
ableness of  mere  community.^  Numa’s  directions,  too,  for 
the  care  of  young  women,  are  better  adapted  to  the  female  sex 
and  to  propriety ; Lycurgus’s  are  altogether  unreserved  and 
unfeminine,  and  have  given  a great  handle  to  the  poets,  whc 
call  them  (Ibycus,  for  example)  Phcenomerides^  bare-thighed  \ 
and  give  them  the  character  (as  does  Euripides)  of  being  wild 
after  husbands ; 

These  with  the  young  men  from  the  house  go  out, 

With  thighs  that  show,  and  robes  that  fly  about. 

For  in  fact  the  skirts  of  the  frock  worn  by  unmarried  girls 
were  not  sewn  together  at  the  lower  part,  but  used  to  fly  back 
and  show  the  whole  thigh  bare  as  they  walked.  The  thing  is 
most  distinctly  given  by  Sophocles. 

— She,  also,  the  young  maid, 

Whose  frock,  no  robe  yet  o’er  it  laid. 

Folding  back,  leaves  her  bare  thigh  free, 

Hermione. 

And  so  their  women,  it  is  said,  were  bold  and  masculine, 
overbearing  to  their  husbands  in  the  first  place,  absolute  mis- 
tresses in  their  houses,  giving  their  opinions  about  public 
matters  freely,  and  speaking  openly  even  on  the  most  im- 
portant subjects.  But  the  matrons,  under  the  government  of 
Numa,  still  indeed  received  from  their  husbands  all  that  high 
respect  and  honor  which  had  been  paid  them  under  Romulus 
as  a sort  of  atonement  for  the  violence  done  to  them  ; never- 


COMPARISON  OF  NUMA  WITH  LYCURGUS.  1 25 

theless,  great  modesty  was  enjoined  upon  them  ; all  busy 
intermeddling  forbidden,  sobriety  insisted  on,  and  silence 
made  habitual.  Wine  they  were  not  to  touch  at  all,  nor  to 
speak,  except  in  their  husband’s  company,  even  on  the  most 
ordinary  subjects.  So  that  once  when  a woman  had  the  con- 
fidence to  plead  her  own  cause  in  a court  of  judicature,  the 
senate,  it  is  said,  sent  to  inquire  of  the  oracle  what  the  prodigy 
did  portend  ; and,  indeed,  their  general  good  behavior  and 
subniissiveness  is  justly  proved  by  the  record  of  those  that 
were  otherwise  ; for  as  the  Greek  historians  record  in  their 
annals  the  names  of  those  who  first  unsheathed  the  sword  of 
civil  war,  or  murdered  their  brothers,  or  were  parricides,  or 
killed  their  mothers,  so  the  Roman  writers  report  it  as  the  first 
example,  that  Spurius  Carvilius  divorced  his  wife,  being  a 
case  that  never  before  happened,  in  the  space  of  two  hun- 
dred and  thirty  years  from  the  foundation  of  the  city ; and 
that  one  Thalaea,  the  wife  of  Pinarius,  had  a quarrel  (the 
first  instance  of  the  kind)  with  her  mother-in-law,  Gegania, 
in  the  reign  of  Tarquinius  Superbus  ; so  successful  was  the 
legislator  in  securing  order  and  good  conduct  in  the  mar- 
riage relation.  Their  respective  regulations  for  marrying  the 
young  women  are  in  accordance  with  those  for  their  educa- 
tion. Lycurgus  made  them  brides  when  they  were  of  full 
age  and  inclination  for  it.  Intercourse,  where  nature  was 
thus  consulted,  would  produce,  he  thought,  love  and  tender- 
ness, instead  of  the  dislike  and  fear  attending  an  unnatural 
compulsion ; and  their  bodies,  also,  would  be  better  able  to 
bear  the  trials  of  breeding  and  of  bearing  children,  in  his 
judgment  the  one  end  of  marriage. 

The  Romans,  on  the  other  hand,  gave  their  daughters  in 
marriage  as  early  as  twelve  years  old,  or  even  under ; thus 
they  thought  their  bodies  alike  and  minds  would  be  delivered 
to  the  future  husband  pure  and  undefiled.  The  way  of 
Lycurgus  seems  the  more  natural  with  a view  to  the  birth  of 
children ; the  other,  looking  to  a life  to  be  spent  together, 
is  more  moral.  However,  the  rules  which  Lycurgus  drew  up 
for  superintendence  of  children,  their  collection  into  com- 
panies, their  discipline  and  association,  as  also  his  exact 
regulations  for  their  meals,  exercises,  and  sports,  argue  Numa 
no  more  than  an  ordinary  lawgiver.  Numa  left  the  whole 
matter  simply  to  be  decided  by  the  parent’s  wishes  or  neces- 
sities ; he  might,  if  he  pleased,  make  his  son  a husbandman 
or  carpenter,  coppersmith  or  musician  ; as  if  it  were  of  nr 
importance  for  them  to  be  directed  and  trained  up  from  th^ 


126 


COMPARISON  OF  NUMA  WITH  LYCURGUS. 


beginning  to  one  and  the  same  common  end,  or  as  though 
it  would  do  for  them  to  be  like  passengers  on  shipboard, 
brought  thither  each  for  his  own  ends  and  by  his  own  choice, 
uniting  to  act  for  the  common  good  only  in  time  of  danger 
upon  occasion  of  their  private  fears,  in  general  looking  simply 
to  their  own  interest. 

We  may  forbear,  indeed,  to  blame  common  legislators, 
who  may  be  deficient  in  power  or  knowledge.  But  a 

wise  man  like  Numa  had  received  the  sovereignty  over  a rew 
and  docile  people,  was  there  any  thing  that  would  better  de- 
serve his  attention  than  the  education  of  children,  and  the 
training  up  of  the  young,  not  to  contrariety  and  discordance 
of  character,  but  to  the  unity  of  the  common  model  of  virtue, 
to  which  from  their  cradle  they  should  have  been  formed  and 
moulded  ? One  benefit  among  many  that  Lycurgus  obtained 
by  his  course  was  the  permanence  which  it  secured  to  his  laws. 
The  obligation  of  oaths  to  preserve  them  would  have  availed 
but  little,  if  he  had  not,  by  discipline  and  education,  infused 
them  into  the  children’s  characters,  and  imbued  their  whole 
early  life  with  a love  of  his  government.  The  result  was  that 
the  main  points  and  fundamentals  of  his  legislation  continued 
for  above  five  hundred  years,  like  some  deep  and  thoroughly 
ingrained  tincture,  retaining  their  hold  upon  the  nation.  But 
Numa’s  whole  design  and  aim,  the  continuance  of  peace  and 
good-will,  on  his  death  vanished  with  him  ; no  sooner  did  he 
expire  his  last  breath  than  the  gates  of  Janus’s  temple  flew 
wide  open,  and,  as  if  war  had,  indeed,  been  kept  and  caged 
up  within  those  walls,  it  rushed  forth  to  fill  all  Italy  with  blood 
and  slaughter  ; and  thus  that  best  and  justest  fabric  of  things 
wns  of  no  long  continuance,  because  it  wanted  that  cement 
which  should  have  kept  all  together,  education.  What,  then, 
some  may  say,  has  not  Rome  been  advanced  and  bettered  by 
her  wars  ? A question  that  will  need  a long  answer,  if  it  is  to 
be  one  to  satisfy  men  who  take  the  better  to  consist  in  riches, 
luxury,  and  dominion,  rather  than  in  security,  gentleness,  and 
that  independence  which  is  accompanied  by  justice.  PIow- 
ever,  it  makes  much  for  Lycurgus,  that,  after  the  Romans  had 
deserted  the  doctrine  and  discipline  of  Numa,  their  empire 
grew  and  their  power  increased  so  much  ; whereas  so  soon  as 
the  Lacedemonians  fell  from  the  institutions  of  Lycurgus,  they 
sank  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest  state,  and,  after  forfeiting 
their  supremacy  over  the  rest  of  Greece,  were  themselves  in 
danger  of  absolute  extirpation.  Thus  much,  meantime,  was 
peculiarly  signal  and  almost  divine  in  the  circumstances  of 


SOLON. 


12.7 


Numa,  that  he  was  an  alien,  and  yet  courted  to  come  and  ac* 
cept  a kingdom,  the  frame  of  which  though  he  entirely  altered, 
yet  he  performed  it  by  mere  persuasion,  and  ruled  a city  that 
as  yet  had  scarce  become  one  city,  without  recurring  to  arms 
or  any  violence  (such  as  Lycurgus  used,  supporting  himself 
by  the  aid  of  the  nobler  citizens  against  the  commonalty), 
but,  by  mere  force  of  wisdom  and  justice,  established  union 
and  harmony  amongst  all. 


SOLON. 

Didymus,  the  grammarian,  in  his  answei  to  Asclepiades 
concerning  Solon’s  Tables  of  Law,  mentions  a passage  of  one 
Philocles,  who  states  that  Solon’s  father’s  name  was  Eupho- 
rion,  contrary  to  the  opinion  of  all  others  who  have  written 
concerning  him  ; for  they  generally  agree  that  he  was  the  son 
of  Execestides,  a man  of  moderate  wealth  and  power  in  the  city, 
but  of  a most  noble  stock,  being  descended  from  Codrus ; 
his  mother,  as  Heraclides  Ponticus  affirms,  was  cousin  to 
Pisistratus’s  mother,  and  the  two  at  first  were  great  friends, 
partly  because  they  were  akin,  and  partly  because  of  Pisis- 
tratus’s noble  qualities  and  beauty.  And  they  say  Solon 
loved  him  ; and  that  is  the  reason,  I suppose,  that  when 
afterwards  they  differed  about  the  government,  their  enmity 
never  produced  any  hot  and  violent  passion,  they  remembered 
their  old  kindnesses,  and  retained — 

Still  in  its  embers  living  the  strong  fire 

of  their  love  and  dear  affection.  For  that  Solon  was  not 
proof  against  beauty,  nor  of  courage  to  stand  up  to  passion 
and  meet  it. 

Hand  to  hand  as  in  the  ring — 

we  may  conjecture  by  his  poems,  and  one  of  his  laws,  in 
which  there  are  practices  forbidden  to  slaves,  which  he  would 
appear,  therefore,  to  recommend  to  freemen.  Pisistratus,  it 
is  stated,  was  similarly  attached  to  one  Charmus  ; he  it  was 
who  dedicated  the  figure  of  Love  in  the  Academy,  where  the 
runners  in  the  sacred  torch  race  light  their  torches.  Solon, 
as  Hermippus  writes,  when  his  father  had  ruined  his  estate  in 
doing  benefits  and  kindnesses  to  other  men,  though  he  haa 


128 


SOLON. 


friends  enough  that  were  willing  to  contribute  to  his  relief, 
yet  was  ashamed  to  be  beholden  to  others,  since  he  was  de- 
scended  from  a family  who  were  accustomed  to  do  kindnesses 
rather  than  receive  them  ; and  therefore  applied  himself  to 
merchandise  in  his  youth ; though  others  assure  us  that  he 
travelled  rather  to  get  learning  and  experience  than  to  make 
money.  It  is  certain  that  he  was  a lover  of  knowledge,  for 
when  he  was  old  he  would  say,  that  he 

Each  day  grew  older,  and  learnt  something  new  ; 

and  yet  no  admirer  of  riches,  esteeming  as  equally  wealthy  the 
man, — 

Who  hath  both  gold  and  silver  in  his  hand, 

Horses  and  mules,  and  acres  of  wheat-land, 

And  him  whose  all  is  decent  food  to  eat, 

Clothes  to  his  back  and  shoes  upon  his  feet. 

And  a young  wife  and  child,  since  so  ^twill  be, 

And  no  more  years  than  will  with  that  agree  ; 

and  in  another  place, — 

Wealth  I would  have,  but  wealth  by  wrong  procure 

I would  not ; justice,  e’en  if  slow,  is  sure. 

And  it  is  perfectly  possible  for  a good  man  and  a statesman, 
without  being  solicitous  for  superfluities,  to  show  some  con- 
cern for  competent  necessaries.  In  his  time,  as  Hesiod 
says, — Work  was  a shame  to  none,’’  nor  was  any  distinction 
made  with  respect  to  trade,  but  merchandise  was  a noble 
calling,  which  brought  home  the  good  things  which  the  bar- 
barous nations  enjoyed,  was  the  occasion  of  friendship  with 
their  kings,  and  a great  source  of  experience.  Some  mer- 
chants have  built  great  cities,  as  Protis,the  founder  of  Massilia, 
to  whom  the  Gauls,  near  the  Rhone,  were  much  attached. 
Some  report,  also,  that  Thales  and  Hippocrates  the  mathema- 
tician traded  ; and  that  Plato  defrayed  the  charges  of  his 
travels  by  selling  oil  in  Egypt.  Solon’s  softness  and  profuse- 
ness, his  popular  rather  than  philosophical  tone  about  pleasure 
in  his  poems,  have  been  ascribed  to  his  trading  life  ; for, 
having  suffered  a thousand  dangers,  it  was  natural  they  should 
be  recompensed  with  some  gratifications  and  enjoyments ; 
but  that  he  accounted  himself  rather  poor  than  rich  is  evident 
from  the  lines, 

Some  wicked  men  are  rich,  some  good  are  poor, 

We  will  not  change  our  virtue  for  their  store ; 

Virtue’s  a thing  that  none  can  take  away ; 

But  money  changes  owners  all  the  day. 


SOLON. 


129 


At  first  he  used  his  poetry  only  m trifles,  not  for  any  seri- 
ous purpose,  but  simply  to  pass  away  his  -die  hours;  but 
afterwards  he  introduced  moral  sentences  and  state  matters, 
which  he  did,  not  to  record  them  merely  as  an  historian,  but 
to  justify  his  own  actions,  and  sometimes  to  correct,  chastise, 
and  stir  up  the  Athenians  to  noble  performances.  Some  re- 
port that  he  designed  to  put  his  laws  into  heroic  verse,  am 
that  they  began  thus, — 

We  humbly  beg  a blessing  on  our  laws 
From  mighty  Jove,  and  honor,  and  applause. 

In  philosophy,  as  most  of  the  wise  men  then,  he  chiefly 
esteemed  the  political  part  of  morals  ; in  physics,  he  was  very 
plain  and  antiquated,  as  appears  by  this, — 

It  is  the  clouds  that  make  the  snow  and  hail, 

And  thunder  comes  from  lightning  without  fail ; 

The  sea  is  stormy  when  the  winds  have  blown. 

But  it  deals  fairly  when  ’tis  left  alone. 

And,  indeed,  it  is  probable  that  at  that  time  Thales  alone  had 
raised  philosophy  above  mere  practice  into  speculation  ; and 
the  rest  of  the  wise  men  were  so  called  from  prudence  in 
political  concerns.  It  is  said,  that  they  had  an  interview  at 
Delphi,  and  another  at  Corinth,  by  the  procurement  of  Peri- 
ander,  who  made  a meeting  for  them,  and  a supper.  But 
their  reputation  was  chiefly  raised  by  sending  the  tripod  to 
them  all,  by  their  modest  refusal,  and  complaisant  yielding  to 
one  another.  For,  as  the  story  goes,  some  of  the  Coans 
fishing  with  a net,  some  strangers,  Milesians,  bought  the 
draught  at  a venture  ; the  net  brought  up  a golden  tripod, 
which,  they  say,  Helen,  at  her  return  from  Troy,  upon  the 
remembrance  of  an  old  prophecy,  threw  in  there.  Now,  the 
strangers  at  first  contesting  with  the  fishers  about  the  tripod, 
and  the  cities  espousing  the  quarrel  so  far  as  to  engage  them- 
selves in  a war,  Apollo  decided  the  controversy  by  command- 
ing to  present  it  to  the  wisest  man  ; and  first  it  was  sent  to 
Miletus  to  Thales,  the  Coans  freely  presenting  him  with  that 
for  which  they  fought  against  the  whole  body  of  the  Milesi- 
ans ; but  Thales  declaring  Bias  the  wiser  person,  it  was  sent 
to  him;  fiom  him  to  another;  and  so,  going  round  them 
all,  it  came  to  Thales  a second  time  ; and,  at  last,  being  car- 
ried from  Miletus  to  Thebes,  was  there  dedicated  to  Apollo 
Ismenius.  Theophrastus  writes  that  it  was  first  presented  to 
Bias  at  Prienc ; and  next  to  Thales  at  Miletus,  and  so 

9 


130 


SOLON. 


through  all  it  returned  to  Bias,  and  was  afterwards  sent  to 
Delphi.  This  is  the  general  report,  only  some,  instead  of  a 
tripod,  say  this  present  was  a cup  sent  by  Croesus  ; others,  a 
piece  of  plate  that  one  Bathycles  had  left.  It  is- stated,  that 
Anacharsis  and  Solon,  and  Solon  and  Thales,  were  familiarly 
acquainted,  and  some  have  delivered  parts  of  their  discourse  ; 
for,  they  say,  Anacharsis,  coming  to  Athens,  knocked  at 
Solon’s  door,  and  told  him,  that  he,  being  a stranger,  was 
come  to  be  his  guest,  and  contract  a friendship  with  him  ; and 
Solon  replying,  “ It  is  better  to  make  friends  at  home,”  Ana* 
charsis  replied,  ‘‘  Then  you  that  are  at  home  make  friend- 
ship with  me.”  Solon,  somewhat  surprised  at  the  readiness 
of  the  repartee,  received  him  kindly,  and  kept  him  some  time 
with  him,  being  already  engaged  in  public  business  and  the 
compilation  of  his  laws ; which,  when  Anacharsis  understood, 
he  laughed  at  him  for  imagining  the  dishonesty  and  covetous- 
ness of  his  countrymen  could  be  restrained  by  written  laws, 
which  were  like  spiders’  webs,  and  would  catch,  it  is  true,  the 
weak  and  poor,  but  easily  be  broken  by  the  mighty  and  rich. 
To  this  Solon  rejoined  that  men  keep  their  promises  when 
neither  side  can  get  any  thing  by  the  breaking  of  them  ; and 
he  would  so  fit  his  laws  to  the  citizens,  that  all  should  under- 
stand it  was  more  eligible  to  be  just  than  to  break  the  laws. 
But  the  event  rather  agreed  with  the  conjecture  of  Anacharsis 
than  Solon’s  hope.  Anacharsis,  being  once  at  the  Assembly, 
expressed  his  wonder  at  the  fact  that  in  Greece  wise  men 
spoke  and  fools  decided. 

Solon  went,  they  say,  to  Thales,  at  Miletus,  and  wondered 
that  Thales  took  no  care  to  get  him  a wife  and  children.  To 
this,  Thales  made  no  answer  for  the  present ; but  a few  days 
after  procured  a stranger  to  pretend  that  he  had  left  Athens 
ten  days  ago ; and  Solon  inquiring  what  news  there,  the  man 
according  to  his  instructions,  replied,  None  but  a young 
man’s  funeral,  which  the  whole  city  attended ; for  he  was  the 
son,  they  said,  of  an  honorable  man,  the  most  virtuous  of  the 
citizens,  who  was  not  then  at  home,  but  had  been  travelling  a 
long  time.”  Solon  replied,  “ What  a miserable  man  is  he  1 
But  what  was  his  name  ? ” I have  heard  it,”  says  tie  man, 
but  have  now  forgotten  it,  only  there  was  a great  talk  of  his 
wisdom  and  his  justice.”  Thus  Solon  was  drawn  on  by  every 
answer,  and  his  fears  heightened,  till  at  last,  being  extremely 
concerned,  he  mentioned  his  own  name,  and  asked  the 
stranger  if  that  young  man  was  called  Solon’s  son ; and  the 
stranger  assenting  he  began  to  beat  his  head,  and  to  do  and 


SOLON. 


say  all  that  is  usual  with  men  in  transports  of  grief.  But 
Thales  took  his  hand,  and,  with  a smile  said,  ‘‘  These  things, 
Solon,  keep  me  from  marriage  and  rearing  children,  which 
are  too  great  for  even  your  constancy  to  support ; however, 
be  not  concerned  at  the  report,  for  it  is  a fiction/’  This 
Hermippus  relates,  from  Pataecus,  who  boasted  that  he  had 
^sop’s  soul. 

However,  it  is  irrational  and  poor-spirited  not  to  seek 
conveniences  for  fear  of  losing  them,  for  upon  the  same  ac 
count  we  should  not  allow  ourselves  to  like  wealth,  glory, 
or  wisdom,  since  we  may  fear  to  be  deprived  of  all  these  ; 
nay,  even  virtue  itself,  than  which  there  is  no  greater  nor  more 
desirable  possession,  is  often  suspended  by  sickness  or  drugs. 
Now  Thales,  though  unmarried,  could  not  be  free  from  solici- 
tude, unless  he  likewise  felt  no  care  for  his  friends,  his  kins- 
man or  his  country  ; yet  we  are  told  he  adopted  Cybisthus,  his 
sister’s  son.  For  the  soul,  having  a principle  of  kindness  in 
itself,  and  being  born  to  love,  as  well  as  perceive,  think,  or 
remember,  inclines  and  fixes  upon  some  stranger,  when  a 
man  has  none  of  his  own  to  embrace.  And  alien  or  illegiti- 
mate objects  insinuate  themselves  into  his  affections,  as  into 
some  estate  that  lacks  lawful  heirs  ; and  with  affection  come 
anxiety  and  care ; insomuch  that  you  may  see  men  that  use 
the  strongest  language  against  the  marriage-bed  and  the  fruit 
of  it,  when  some  servants’  or  concubine’s  child  is  sick  or  dies, 
almost  killed  with  grief,  and  abjectly  lamenting.  Some  have 
given  way  to  shameful  and  desperate  sorrow  at  the  loss  of  a 
dog  or  horse  ; others  have  borne  the  death  of  virtuous  chil- 
dren without  any  extravagant  or  unbecoming  grief,  have 
passed  the  rest  of  their  lives  like  men,  and  according  to  the 
principles  of  reason.  It  is  not  affection,  it  is  weakness  that 
brings  men,  unarmed  against  fortune  by  reason,  into  these 
endless  pains  and  terrors  ; and  they  indeed  have  not  even  the 
present  enjoyment  of  what  they  doat  upon,  the  possibility  of 
the  future  loss  causing  them  continual  pangs,  tremors,  and 
distresses.  We  must  not  provide  against  the  loss  of  wealth 
by  poverty,  or  of  friends  by  refusing  all  acquaintance,  or  of 
children  by  having  none,  but  by  morality  and  reason.  But  of 
this  too  much. 

Now,  when  the  Athenians  were  tired  with  a tedious  and 
difficult  war  that  they  conducted  against  the  Megarians  for 
the  island  Salamis,  and  made  a law  that  it  should  be  death 
for  any  man,  by  writing  or  speaking,  to  assert  that  the  city 
ought  to  endeavor  to  recover  it,  Solon,  vexed  at  the  dis 


SOLON, 


^32 

grace,  and  perceiving  thousands  of  the  youth  wished  for 
somebody  to  begin,  but  did  not  dare  to  stir  first  for  fear  of 
the  law,  counterfeited  a distraction,  and  by  his  own  family  it 
was  spread  about  the  city  that  he  was  mad.  He  then 
secretly  composed  some  elegiac  verses,  and  getting  them 
by  heart,  that  it  might  seem  extempore,  ran  out  into  the  mar- 
ket-place with  a cap  upon  his  head,  and,  the  people  gathering 
about  him,  got  upon  the  herald’s  stand,  and  sang  that  elsgy 
which  begins  thus  : — 

I am  a herald  come  from  Salamis  the  fair, 

My  news  from  thence  my  verses  shall  declare. 

The  poem  is  called  Salamis ; it  contains  an  hundred  verses 
very  elegantly  written  ; when  it  had  been  sung,  his  friends 
commended  it,  and  especially  Pisistratus  exhorted  the  citizens 
to  obey  his  directions  ; insomuch  that  they  recalled  the  law, 
and  renewed  the  war  under  Solon’s  conduct.  The  popular 
tale  is,  that  with  Pisistratus  he  sailed  to  Colias,  and,  finding 
the  women,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  country  there, 
sacrificing  to  Ceres,  he  sent  a trusty  friend  to  Salamis,  who 
should  pretend  himself  a renegade,  and  advise  them,  if  they 
desired  to  seize  the  chief  Athenian  women,  to  come  with  him 
at  once  to  Colias  ; the  Megarians  presently  sent  off  men  in 
the  vessel  vtnth  him  ; and  Solon,  seeing  it  put  off  from  the 
island,  commanded  the  women  to  be  gone,  and  some  beardless 
youths,  dressed  in  their  clothes,  their  shoes  and  caps,  and 
privately  armed  with  daggers,  to  dance  and  play  near  the 
shore  till  the  enemies  had  landed  and  the  vessel  was  in  their 
power.  Things  being  thus  ordered,  the  Megarians  were 
lured  with  the  appearance,  and,  coming  to  the  shore,  jumped 
out,  eager  who  should  first  seize  a prize,  so  that  not  one  of 
them  escaped ; and  the  Athenians  set  sail  for  the  island  and 
took  it. 

Others  say  that  it  was  not  taken  this  way  but  that  he  first 
rereived  this  oracle  from  Delphi : 

Those  heroes  that  in  fair  Asopia  rest, 

All  buried  with  their  faces  to  the  west. 

Go  and  appease  with  offerings  of  the  best ; 

and  that  Solon,  sailing  by  night  to  the  island,  sacrificed  to  the 
heroes  Periphemus  and  Cychreus,  and  then  taking  five  hun- 
dred Athenian  volunteers  (a  law  having  passed  that  those 
that  took  the  island  should  be  highest  in  the  government),  with 
a number  of  fisher-boats  and  one  thirty-oared  ship,  anchored 
in  a bay  of  Salamis  that  looks  towards  Nisaea ; and  the  Me 


SOLON 


133 


garians  that  were  then  in  the  island,  hearing  only  an  uncer- 
tain report,  hurried  to  their  arms,  and  sent  a ship  to  recon- 
noitre the  enemies.  This  ship  Solon  took,  and,  securing  the 
Megarians,  manned  it  with  Athenians,  and  gave  them  orders 
to  sail  to  the  island  with  as  much  privacy  as  possible  ; mean- 
time he,  with  the  other  soldiers,  marched  against  the  Mega-* 
rians  by  land,  and  whilst  they  were  fighting,  those  from  the 
ship  took  the  city.  And  this  narrative  is  confirmed  by  the 
following  solemnity,  that  was  afterwards  observed : an  Athe- 
nian ship  used  to  sail  silently  at  first  to  the  island,  then,  with 
noise  and  a great  shout,  one  leapt  out  armed,  and  with  a loud 
cry  ran  to  the  promontory  Sciradium  to  meet  those  that  ap- 
proached upon  the  land.  And  just  by  there  stands  a temple 
which  Solon  dedicated  to  Mars.  For  he  beat  the  Megarians, 
and  as  many  as  were  not  killed  in  the  battle  he  sent  away 
upon  conditions. 

The  Megarians,  however,  still  contending,  and  both  sides 
having  received  considerable  losses,  they  chose  the  Spartans 
for  arbitrators.  Now,  many  affirm  that  Homer^s  authority 
did  Solon  a considerable  kindness,  and  that,  introducing  a 
line  into  the  Catalogue  of  Ships,  when  the  matter  was  to  be 
determined,  he  read  the  passage  as  follows  : 

Twelve  ships  from  Sal  amis  stout  Ajax  brought, 

And  ranked  his  men  where  the  Athenians  fought. 

The  Athenians,  however,  call  this  but  an  idle  story,  and  re- 
port that  Solon  made  it  appear  to  the  judges,  that  Philaeus 
and  Eurysaces,  the  sons  of  Ajax,  being  made  citizens  of 
Athens,  gave  them  the  island,  and  that  one  of  them  dwelt  at 
Brauron  in  Attica,  the  other  at  Melite  ; and  they  have  a town- 
ship of  Philaidae,  to  which  Pisistratus  belonged,  deriving  its 
name  from  this  Philaeus.  Solon  took  a farther  argument 
against  the  Megarians  from  the  dead  bodies,  which,  he  said, 
were  not  buried  after  their  fashion,  but  according  to  the  Athe- 
nian ; for  the  Megarians  turn  the  corpse  to  the  east,  the 
Athenians  to  the  west.  But  Hereas  the  Megarian,  denies 
this,  and  affirms  that  they  likewise  turn  the  body  to  the  west, 
and  also  that  the  Athenians  have  a separate  tomb  for  every- 
body, but  the  Megarians  put  two  or  three  into  one.  How- 
ever, some  of  Apollons  oracles,  where  he  calls  Salamis  Ionian, 
made  much  for  Solon.  This  matter  was  determined  by  five 
Spartans,  Critolaidas,  Amompharetus,  Hypsechidas,  Anaxilas, 
and  Cleomenes. 

For  this,  Solon  grew  famed  and  powerful  ; but  his  advice 


134 


SOLON. 


in  favor  of  defending  the  oracle  at  Delphi,  to  give  aid,  and 
not  to  suffer  the  Cirrhaeans  to  profane  it,  but  to  maintain  the 
honor  of  the  god,  got  him  most  repute  among  the  Greeks ; 
for  upon  his  persuasion  the  Amphictyons  undertook  the  war, 
as  'amongst  others,  Aristotle  affirms,  in  his  enumeration  of 
the  victors  at  the  Pythian  games,  where  he  makes  Solon  the 
author  of  this  counsel.  Solon,  however,  was  not  general  in 
that  expedition,  as  Hermippus  states,  out  of  Evanthes  the 
Samian  ; for  ^schines  the  orator  says  no  such  thing,  and,  in 
the  Delphian  register,  Alcmceon,  not  Solon,  is  named  as  com* 
mander  of  the  Athenians. 

Now  the  Cylonian  pollution  had  a long  while  disturbed 
the  commonwealth,  ever  since  the  time  when  Megacles  the 
archon  persuaded  the  conspirators  with  Cylon  that  took  sane 
tuary  in  Minerva’s  temple  to  come  down  and  stand  to  a fair 
trial.  And  they,  tying  a thread  to  the  image,  and  holding 
one  end  of  it,  went  down  to  the  tribunal ; but  when  they  came 
to  the  temple  of  the  Furies,  the  thread  broke  of  its  own  ac- 
cord, upon  which,  as  if  the  goddess  had  refused  them  protec- 
tion, they  were  seized  by  Megacles  and  the  other  magistrates ; 
as  many  as  were  without  the  temples  were  stoned,  those  that 
fled  for  sanctuary  were  butchered  at  the  altar,  and  only  those 
escaped  who  made  supplication  to  the  wives  of  the  magis- 
trates. But  they  from  that  time  were  considered  under  pollu- 
tion, and  regarded  with  hatred.  The  remainder  of  the  faction 
of  Cylon  grew  strong  again,  and  had  continual  quarrels  with 
the  family  of  Megacles ; and  now  the  quarrel  being  at  its 
height,  and  the  people  divided,  Solon,  being  in  reputation, 
interposed  with  the  chiefest  of  the  Athenians,  and  by  entreaty 
and  admonition  persuaded  the  polluted  to  submit  to  a trial 
and  the  decision  of  three  hundred  noble  citizens.  And  My- 
ron of  Phlya  being  their  accuser,  they  were  found  guilty,  and 
as  many  as  were  then  alive  were  banished,  and  the  bodies  of 
the  dead  were  dug  up,  and  scattered  beyond  the  confines  of 
the  country.  In  the  midst  of  these  distractions,  the  Megarians 
falling  upon  them,  they  lost  Nisaea  and  Salamis  again ; be- 
sides, the  city  was  disturbed  with  superstitious  fears  and 
strange  appearances,  and  the  priests  declared  that  the  sacri- 
fices intimated  some  villanies  and  pollutions  that  were  to  be 
expiated.  Upon  this,  they  sent  for  Epimenides  the  Phaestian 
from  Crete,  who  is  counted  the  seventh  wise  man  by  those 
that  will  not  admit  Periander  into  the  number.  He  seems  to 
have  been  thought  a favorite  of  heaven,  possessed  of  knowl- 
edge in  all  the  supernatural  and  ritual  parts  of  religion ; and 


SOLON. 


^3£ 


therefore,  the  men  of  his  age  called  him  a new  Cures,  and 
son  of  a nymph  named  Balte.  When  he  came  to  Athens,  and 
grew  acquainted  with  Solon,  he  served* him  in  many  instances, 
and  prepared  the  way  for  his  legislation.  He  made  them 
moderate  in  their  forms  of  worship,  and  abated  their  mourn- 
ing by  ordering  some  sacrifices  presently  after  the  funeral, 
and  taking  off  those  severe  and  barbarous  ceremonies  ^\hich 
the  women  usually  practised  ; but  the  greatest  benefit  was  his 
purifying  and  sanctifying  the  city,  by  certain  propitiatory  and 
expiatory  lustrations,  and  foundations  of  sacred  buildings,  by 
that  means  making  them  more  submissive  to  justice,  and 
more  inclined  to  harmony.  It  is  reported  that,  looking  upon 
Munychia,  and  considering  a long  while,  he  said  to  those  that 
stood  by,  “ How  blind  is  man  in  future  things  ! for  did  the 
Athenians  foresee  what  mischief  this  would  do  their  city, 
they  would  even  eat  it  with  their  own  teeth  to  be  rid  of  it.^^ 
A similar  anticipation  is  ascribed  to  Thales  ; they  say  he 
commanded  his  friends  lo  bury  him  in  an  obscure  and  con- 
temned quarter  of  the  territory  of  Miletus,  saying  that  it 
should  some  day  be  the  market-place  of  the  Milesians.  Epi 
menides,  being  much  honored,  and  receiving  from  the  city 
rich  offers  of  large  gifts  and  privileges,  requested  but  one 
branch  of  the  sacred  olive,  and,  on  that  being  granted,  re- 
turned. 

The  Athenians,  now  the  Cylonian  sedition  was  over  and 
the  polluted  gone  into  banishment,  fell  into  their  old  quarrels 
about  the  government,  there  being  as  many  different  parties 
as  there  were  diversities  in  the  country.  The  Hill  quarter 
favored  democracy,  the  Plain,  oligarchy,  and  those  that  lived 
by  the  Sea-side  stood  for  a mixed  sort  of  government,  and  so 
hindered  either  of  the  other  parties  from  prevailing.  And 
the  disparity  of  fortune  between  the  rich  and  the  poor,  at  that 
time,  also  reached  its  height ; so  that  the  city  seemed  to  be 
in  a truly  dangerous  condition,  and  no  other  means  for 
freeing  it  from  disturbances  and  settling  it,  to  be  possible 
but  a despotic  power.  All  the  people  were  indebted  to  the 
rich  ; and  either  they  tilled  their  land  for  their  creditors,  pay- 
ing them  a sixth  part  of  the  increase,  and  were,  therefore, 
called  Hectemorii  and  Thetes,  or  else  they  engaged  their 
body  for  the  debt,  and  might  be  seized,  and  either  sent  into 
slavery  at  home,  or  sold  to  strangers  ; some  (for  no  law  for- 
bade it)  were  forced  to  sell  their  children,  or  fly  their  country 
to  avoid  the  cruelty  of  their  creditors  ; but  the  most  part  and 
the  bravest  of  them  began  to  combine  together  and  encour- 


136 


SOLON. 


age  one  another  to  stand  to  it,  to  choose  a leader,  to  liberate 
the  condemned  debtors,  divide  the  land,  and  change  the 
government. 

Then  the  wisest  of  the  Athenians,  perceiving  Solon  was 
of  all  men  the  only  one  not  implicated  in  the  troubles,  that 
he  had  not  joined  in  the  exactions  of  the  rich,  and  was  not, 
involved  in  the  necessities  of  the  poor,  pressed  him  to  succor 
the  commonwealth  and  compose  the  differences.  Though 
Phanias  the  Lesbian  affirms,  that  Solon,  to  save  his  country, 
put  a trick  upon  both  parties,  and  privately  promised  the 
poor  a division  of  the  lands,  and  the  rich,  security  for  their 
debts.  Solon,  however,  himself  says,  that  it  was  reluctantly 
at  first  that  he  engaged  in  state  affairs,  being  afraid  of  the 
pride  of  one  party  and  the  greediness  of  the  other  ; he  was 
chosen  archon,  however,  after  Philombrotus,  and  empowered 
to  be  an  arbitrator  and  lawgiver ; the  rich  consenting  be- 
cause he  was  wealthy,  the  poor  because  he  was  honest. 
There  was  a saying  of  his  current  before  the  election,  that 
when  things  are  even  there  never  can  be  war,  and  this  pleased 
both  parties,  the  wealthy  and  the  poor  ; the  one  conceiving 
him  to  mean,  when  all  have  their  fair  proportion ; the  others, 
when  all  are  absolutely  equal.  Thus,  there  being  great  hopes 
on  both  sides,  the  chief  men  pressed  Solon  to  take  the  gov- 
ernment into  his  own  hands,  and,  when  he  was  once  settled, 
manage  the  business  freely  and  according  to  his  pleasure  ; 
and  many  of  the  commons,  perceiving  it  would  be  a difficult 
change  to  be  effected  by  law  and  reason,  were  willing  to  have 
one  wise  and  just  man  set  over  the  affairs ; and  some  say 
that  Solon  had  this  oracle  from  Apollo — 

Take  the  mid-seat,  and  be  the  vessel's  guide ; 

Many  in  Athens  are  upon  your  side. 

But  chiefly  his  familiar  friends  chid  him  for  disaffecting  mon- 
archy only  because  of  the  name,  as  if  the  virtue  of  the  ruler 
could  not  make  it  a lawful  form  ; Euboea  had  made  this  ex- 
periment when  it  chose  Tynnondas,  and  Mitylene,  which  had 
made  Pittacus  its  prince  ; yet  this  could  not  shake  Solon's 
resolution ; but,  as  they  say,  he  replied  to  his  friends,  that  it 
was  true  a tyranny  was  a very  fair  spot,  but  it  had  no  way 
down  from  it ; and  in  a copy  of  verses  to  Phocus  he  writes—* 

— that  I spared  my  land, 

And  withheld  from  usurpation  and  from  violence  my  hand, 

And  forbore  to  fix  a stain  and  a disgrace  on  my  good  name, 

I regret  not ; I believe  that  it  will  be  my  chiefest  fame. 


SOLON. 


137 


From  which  it  is  manifest  that  he  was  a man  of  great  reputa- 
tion before  he  gave  his  laws.  The  several  mocks  that  were 
put  upon  him  for  refusing  the  power,  he  records  in  these 
words, — 

Solon  surely  was  a dreamer,  and  a man  of  simple  mind  ; 

When  the  gods  would  give  him  fortune,  he  of  his  own  will  declined  ; 

When  the  net  was  full  of  fishes,  over-heavy  thinking  it ; 

He  declined  to  haul  it  up,  through  want  of  heart  and  want  of  wit. 

Had  but  I that  chance  of  riches  and  of  kingship,  for  one  day, 

I would  give  my  skin  for  flaying,  and  my  house  to  die  away. 

Thus  he  makes  the  many  and  the  low  people  speak  of 
him.  Yet,  though  he  refused  the  government,  he  was  not  too 
mild  in  the  affair  ; he  did  not  show  himself  mean  and  sub- 
missive to  the  powerful,  nor  make  his  laws  to  pleasure  those 
that  choose  him.  For  it  was  well  before,  he  applied  no 
remedy,  nor  altered  any  thing,  for  fear  least. 

Overthrowing  altogether  and  disordering  the  state, 

he  should  be  too  weak  to  new-model  and  recompose  it  to  a 
tolerable  condition  ; but  what  he  thought  he  could  effect  by 
persuasion  upon  the  pliable,  and  by  force  upon  the  stubborn, 
this  he  did,  as  he  himself  says, 

With  force  and  justice  working  both  in  one. 

And,  therefore,  when  he  was  afterwards  asked  if  he  had  left 
the  Athenians  the  best  laws  that  could  be  given,  he  replied, 
^‘The  best  they  could  receive.’’  The  way  which,  the  moderns 
say,  the  Athenians  have  of  softening  the  badness  of  a thing, 
by  ingeniously  giving  it  some  pretty  and  innocent  appellation, 
calling  harlots,  for  example,  mistresses,  tributes  customs,  a 
garrison  a guard,  and  the  jail  the  chamber,  seem  originally  to 
have  been  Solon’s  contrivance,  who  called  cancelling  debts 
Seisacthea,  a relief,  or  disencumbrance.  For  the  first  thing 
which  he  settled  was,  that  what  debts  remained  should  be  for- 
given, and  no  man,  for  the  future,  should  engage  the  b<'dy  of 
his  debtor  for  security.  Though  some,  as  Androtion,  affirm 
that  the  debts  were  not  cancelled,  but  the  interest  only 
lessened,  which  sufficiently  pleased  the  people  ; so  that  they 
named  this  benefit  the  Seisacthea,  together  with  the  enlarging 
their  measures,  and  raising  the  value  of  their  money ; for  he 
made  a pound,  which  before  passed  for  seventy-three  drach- 
mas, go  for  a hundred  ; so  that,  though  the  number  of  pieces  in 
the  payment  was  equal,  the  value  was  less ; which  proved  a 
considerable  benefit  to  those  that  were  to  discharge  great 


SOLON. 


138 

debts,  and  no  loss  to  the  creditors.  But  most  agree  that  it 
was  the  taking  off  the  debts  that  was  called  Seisacthea,  which 
is  confirmed  by  some  places  in  his  poem,  where  he  takes 
honor  to  himself,  that 

The  mortgage-stones  that  covered  her,  by  me 

Removed, — the  land  that  was  a slave  is  free  : 

that  some  who  had  been  seized  for  their  debts  he  had  brought 
back  from  other  countries,  where 

— so  far  their  lot  to  roam, 

They  had  forgot  the  language  of  their  home ; 

and  some  he  had  set  at  liberty, — 

Who  here  in  shameful  servitude  were  held. 

While  he  was  designing  this,  a most  vexatious  thing  hap- 
pened ; for  when  he  had  resolved  to  take  off  the  debts,  and 
was  considering  the  proper  form  and  fit  beginning  for  it,  he 
told  some  of  his  friends,  Conon,  Clinias,  and  Hipponicus,  in 
whom  he  had  a great  deal  of  confidence,  that  he  would  not 
meddle  with  the  lands,  but  only  free  the  people  from  their 
debts  ; upon  which,  they,  using  their  advantage,  made  haste 
and  borrowed  some  considerable  sums  of  money,  and  pur- 
chased some  large  farms  ; and  when  the  law  was  enacted, 
they  kept  the  possessions,  and  would  not  return  the  money  ; 
which  brought  Solon  into  great  suspicion  and  dislike,  as  if  he 
himself  had  not  been  abused,  but  was  concerned  in  the  con- 
trivance. But  he  presently  stopped  this  suspicion,  by  releas- 
ing his  debtors  of  five  talents  (for  he  had  lent  so  much),  ac- 
cording to  the  law ; others,  as  Polyzelus  the  Rhodian,  say 
fifteen ; his  friends,  however,  were  ever  afterward  called 
Chreocopidae,  repudiators. 

In  this  he  pleased  neither  party,  for  the  rich  were  angry 
for  their  money,  and  the  poor  that  the  land  was  not  divided, 
and,  as  Lycurgus  ordered  in  his  commonwealth,  all  men  re- 
duced to  equality.  He,  it  is  true,  being  the  eleventh  from 
Hercules,  and  having  reigned  many  years  in  Lacedaemon,  had 
got  a great  reputation  and  friends  and  power,  which  he  could 
use  in  modelling  his  state  ; and  applying  force  more  than  per- 
suasion, insomuch  that  he  lost  his  eye  in  the  scuffle,  was  able 
to  employ  the  most  effectual  means  for  the  safety  and  harmony 
of  a state,  by  not  permitting" any  to  be  poor  or  rich  in  his 
commonwealth.  Solon  could  not  rise  to  that  in  his  polity,  be- 
ing but  a citizen  of  the  middle  classes  ; yet  he  acted  fully  up 
to  the  height  of  his  power,  having  nothing  but  the  good-will 


SOLON. 


139 


and  good  opinion  of  his  citizens  to  rely  on  ; and  that  he 
offended  the  most  part,  who  looked  for  another  result,  he 
declares  in  the  words, 

Formerly  they  boasted  of  me  vainly  ; with  averted  eyes 

Now  they  look  askance  upon  me ; friends  no  more,  but  enemies. 

And  yet  had  any  other  man,  he  says,  received  the  same  pow  er, 

He  would  not  have  forborne,  nor  let  alone, 

But  made  the  fattest  of  the  milk  his  own. 

Soon,  how^ever,  becoming  sensible  of  the  good  that  was  done, 
they  laid  by  their  grudges,  made  a public  sacrifice,  calling  it 
Seisacthea,  and  chose  Solon  to  new-model  and  makes  laws 
for  the  commonwealth,  giving  him  the  entire  j)ower  over 
every  thing,  their  magistracies,  their  assemblies,  courts,  and 
councils  ; that  he  should  appoint  the  number,  times  of  meet- 
ing, and  what  estate  they  must  have  that  could  be  capable  of 
these,  and  dissolve  or  continue  any  of  the  present  constitu- 
tions, according  to  his  pleasure. 

First,  then,  he  repealed  all  Dracoes  laws,  except  those 
concerning  homicide,  because  they  were  too  severe,  and  the 
punishments  too  great ; for  death  was  appointed  for  almost 
all  offences,  insomuch  that  those  that  were  convicted  of 
idleness  were  to  die,  and  those  that  stole  a cabbage  or  an 
apple  to  suffer  even  as  villains  that  committed  sacrilege  or 
murder.  So  that  Demades,  in  after  time,  was  thought  to  have 
said  very  happily,  that  Draco’s  laws  were  written  not  with 
ink  but  blood ; and  he  himself,  being  once  asked  why  he 
made  death  the  punishment  of  most  offences,  replied,  “ Small 
ones  deserve  that,  and  I have  no  higher  for  the  greater 
crimes.”  ^ 

Next,  Solon,  being  willing  to  continue  the  magistracies  in 
the  hands  of  the  rich  men,  and  yet  receive  the  people  into 
the  other  part  of  the  government,  took  an  account  of  the 
citizen’s  estates,  and  those  that  were  worth  five  hundred 
measures  of  fruit,  dry  and  liquid,  he  placed  in  the  first  rank, 
calling  them  Pentacosiomedimni  ; those  that  could  keep  an 
horse,  or  were  worth  three  hundred  measures,  were  named 
Hippada  Teluntes,  and  made  the  second  class ; the  Zeugitae, 
that  had  two  hundred  measures,  were  in  the  third ; and  all 
the  others  were  called  Thetes,  who  were  not  admitted  to  any 
office,  but  could  come  to  the  assembly,  and  act  as  jurors  ; 
which  at  first  seemed  nothing,  but  afterwards  was  found  an 
enormous  privilege,  as  almost  every  matter  of  dispute  came 
before  them  in  this  latter  capacity.  Even  in  the  cases  which 


SOLON, 


140 

he  assigned  to  the  archon’s  cognizance^  he  allowed  an  appeal 
to  the  courts.  Besides,  it  is  said  that  he  was  obscure  and 
ambiguous  in  the  wording  of  his  laws,  on  purpose  to  increase 
the  honor  of  his  courts  ; for  since  their  differences  could  not 
be  adjusted  by  the  letter,  they  would  have  to  bring  all  their 
causes  to  the  judges,  who  thus  were  in  a manner  masters  of 
the  Jaws.  Of  this  equalization  he  himself  makes  mention  :n 
this  manner : 

Such  power  I gave  the  people  as  might  do, 

Abridged  not  what  they  had,  now  lavished  new. 

Those  that  were  great  in  wealth  and  high  in  place, 

My  counsel  likewise  kept  from  all  disgrace. 

Before  them  both  I held  my  shield  of  might. 

And  let  not  either  touch  the  other’s  right. 

And  for  the  greater  security  of  the  weak  commons,  he  gave 
general  liberty  of  indicting  for  an  act  of  injury ; if  any  one 
was  beaten,  maimed,  or  suffered  any  violence,  any  man  that 
would  and  was  able,  might  prosecute  the  wrongdoer ; intend- 
ing by  this  to  accustom  the  citizens,  like  members  of  the 
same  body,  to  resent  and  be  sensible  of  one  another’s  injuries. 
And  there  is  a saying  of  his  agreeable  to  his  law,  for,  being 
asked  what  city  was  best  modelfea,  That,”  said  he,  where 
those  that  are  not  injured  try  and  punish  the  unjust  as  much 
as  those  that  are.” 

When  he  had  constituted  the  Areopagus  of  those  who 
had  been  yearly  archons  of  which  he  himself  was  a member 
therefore,  observing  that  the  people,  now  free  from  their 
debts,  were  unsettled  and  imperious,  he  formed  another  coun- 
cil of  four  hundred,  a hundred  out  of  each  of  the  four  tribes, 
A^hich  was  to  inspect  all  matters  before  they  were  propounded 
to  the  people,  and  to  take  care  that  nothing  but  what  had 
been  first  examined  should  be  brought  before  the  general 
assembly.  The  upper  council,  or  Areopagus,  he  made  in- 
spectors and  keepers  of  the  laws,  conceiving  that  the  com 
monwealth,  held  by  these  two  councils,  like  anchors,  would 
be  less  liable  to  be  tossed  by  tumults,  and  the  people  be 
more  quiet.  Such  is  the  general  statement,  that  Solon  insti- 
tuted the  Areopagus  ; which  seems  to  be  confirmed,  because 
Draco  makes  no  mention  of  the  Areopagites,  but  in  all  causes 
of  blood  refers  to  the  Ephetae  ; yet  Solon’s  thirteenth  table. 
contains  the  eighth  law  set  down  in  these  very  words  : ‘‘  Wno- 
ever  before  Solon’s  archonship  were  disfranchised,  let  them 
be  restored,  except  those  that,  being  condemned  by  the  Are< 
opagus.  Ephetae,  or  in  the  Prytaneum  by  the  kings,  f i>r  homi 


SOLON. 


I4I 

cide,  murder,  or  designs  against  the  government,  were  in 
banishment  when  this  law  was  made  ; ” and  these  words  seem 
to  show  that  the  Areopagus  existed  before  Solon^s  laws,  for 
who  could  be  condemned  by  that  council  before  his  time,  if 
he  was  the  first  that  instituted  the  court?  unless,  which  is 
probable,  there  is  some  ellipsis,  or  want  of  precision  in  the 
language,  and  it  should  run  thus  : — “ Those  that  are  con- 
victed of  such  offences  as  belong  to  the  cognizance  of  the 
Areopagites,  Ephetae,  or  the  Prytanes,  when  this  law  was 
made,  ^ shall  remain  still  in  disgrace,  whilst  others  are  re- 
stored; of  this  the  reader  must  judge. 

Amongst  his  others  laws,  one  is  very  peculiar  and  sur- 
prising, which  disfranchises  all  who  stand  neuter  in  a sedi- 
tion ; for  it  seems  he  would  not  have  any  one  remain  insen- 
sible and  regardless  of  the  public  good,  and  securing  his 
private  affairs,  glory  that  he  has  no  feeling  of  the  distempers 
of  his  country;  but  at  once  join  with  the  good  party  and 
those  that  have  the  right  upon  their  side,  assist  and  venture 
with  them,  rather  than  keep  out  of  harm’s  way  and  watch 
who  would  get  the  better.  It  seems  an  absurd  and  foolish 
law  which  permits  an  heiress,  if  her  lawful  husband  fail  her, 
to  take  his  nearest  kinsman ; yet  some  say  this  law  was  well 
contrived  against  those  who,  conscious  of  their  own  unfitness, 
yet,  for  the  sake  of  the-  portion,  would  match  with  heiresses, 
and  make  use  of  law  to  put  a violence  upon  nature  ; for  now, 
since  she  can  quit  him  for  whom  she  pleases,  they  would 
either  abstain  from  such  marriages,  or  continue  them  with 
disgrace,  and  suffer  for  their  covetousness  and  designed 
affront ; it  is  well  done,  moreover,  to  confine  her  to  her  hus- 
band’s nearest  kinsman,  that  the  children  may  be  of  the  same 
family.  Agreeable  to  this  is  the  law  that  the  bride  and 
bridegroom  shall  be  shut  into  a chamber,  and  eat  a quince 
together  ; and  that  the  husband  of  an  heiress  shall  consort 
with  her  thrice  a month ; for  though  there  be  no  children, 
yet  it  is  an  honor  and  due  affection  which  an  husband  ought 
to  pay  to  a virtuous,  chaste  wife  ; it  takes  off  all  petty  differ- 
ences, and  will  not  permit  their  little  quarrels  to  proceed  to  a 
rupture. 

In  all  other  marriages  he  forbade  dowries  to  be  given  ; 
the  wife  was  to  have  three  suits  of  clothes,  a little  inconsider- 
able household  stuff,  and  that  was  all  ; for  he  would  not  have 
marriages  contracted  for  gain  or  an  estate,  but  for  pure  love, 
kind  affection,  and  birth  of  children.  When  the  mother  of 
Dionysius  desired  him  to  marry  her  to  one  of  his  citizens 


142 


SOLON. 


“Indeed/’  said  he,  “by  my  tyranny  I have  broken  my  coun- 
try's  laws,  but  cannot  put  a violence  upon  those  of  nature  by 
an  unseasonable  marriage.”  Such  disorder  is  never  to  be  suf- 
fered in  a commonwealth,  nor  such  unseasonable  and  unlov- 
ing and  unperforming  marriages,  which  attain  no  due  end  or 
fruit  j any  provident  governor  or  lawgiver  might  say  to  an  old 
man  that  takes  a young  wife  what  is  said  to  Philoctetes  in  the 
tragedy,— 

Truly,  in  a fit  state  thou  to  marry  ! 

and  if  he  finds  a young  man,  with  a rich  and  elderly  wife, 
growing  fat  in  his  place,  like  the  partridges,  remove  him  to  a 
young  woman  of  proper  age.  And  of  this  enough. 

Another  commendable  law  of  Solon’s  is  that  which  forbids 
men  to  speak  evil  of  the  dead ; for  it  is  pious  to  think  the  de- 
ceased sacred,  and  just,  not  to  meddle  with  those  that  are 
gone,  and  politic,  to  prevent  the  perpetuity  of  discord.  He 
likewise  forbade  them  to  speak  evil  of  the  living  in  the  tem- 
ples, the  courts  of  justice,  the  public  offices,  or  at  the  games, 
or  else  to  pay  three  drachmas  to  the  person,  and  two  to  the 
public.  For  never  to  be  able  to  control  passion  shows  a 
weak  nature  and  ill-breeding  ; and  always  to  moderate  it  is 
very  hard,  and  to  some  impossible.  And  laws  must  look  to 
possibilities,  if  the  maker  designs  to  punish  few  in  order  to 
their  amendment,  and  not  many  to  no  purpose. 

He  is  likewise  much  commended  for  his  law  concerning 
wills ; for  before  him  none  could  be  made,  but  all  the  wealth  and 
estate  of  the  deceased  belonged  to  his  family  ; but  he  by  per- 
mitting them,  if  they  had  no  children,  to  bestow  it  on  whom 
they  pleased,  showed  that  he  esteemed  friendship  a stronger 
tie  than  kindred,  and  affection  than  necessity;  and  made 
every  man’s  estate  truly  his  own.  Yet  he  allowed  not  all 
sorts  of  legacies,  but  those  only  which  were  not  extorted  by 
the  frenzy  of  a disease,  charms,  imprisonment,  force,  or  the 
persuasions  of  a wife  ; with  good  reason  thinking  that  being 
seduced  into  wrong  was  as  bad  as  being  forced,  and  that  be- 
tween deceit  and  necessity,  flattery  and  compulsion,  theit. 
was  little  difference,  since  both  may  equally  suspend  the  ex- 
ercise of  reason. 

He  regulated  the  walks,  feasts,  and  mourning  of  the 
women,  and  took  away  every  thing  that  was  either  unbecom- 
ing or  immodest ; when  they  walked  abroad,  no  more  than 
three  articles  of  dress  were  allowed  them ; an  obol’s  worth  of 
meat  and  drink ; and  no  basket  above  a cubit  high  ; and  at 


SOLON. 


M3 


night  they  were  not  to  go  about  unless  in  a chariot  with  a 
torch  before  them.  Mourners  tearing  themselves  to  raise  pity, 
and  set  wailings,  and  at  one  man’s  funeral  to  lament  for 
another,  he  forbade.  To  oifer  an  ox  at  the  grave  was  not 
permitted,  nor  to  bury  above  three  pieces  of  dress  with  the 
body,  or  visit  the  tombs  of  any  besides  their  own  family,  un- 
less at  the  very  funeral ; most  of  which  are  likewise  forbidden 
by  our  laws,  but  this  is  further  added  in  ours,  that  those  that 
are  convicted  of  extravagance  in  their  mournings,  are  to  be 
punished  as  soft  and  effeminate  by  the  censors  of  women. 

Observing  the  city  to  be  filled  with  persons  that  flocked 
from  all  parts  into  Attica  for  security  of  living,  and  that  most 
of  the  country  was  barren  and  unfruitful,  and  that  traders  at 
sea  import  nothing  to  those  that  could  give  them  nothing  in 
exchange,  he  turned  his  citizens  to  trade,  and  made  a law 
that  no  son  be  obliged  to  relieve  a father  who  had  not  bred 
him  up  to  any  calling.  It  is  true,  Lycurgus,  having  a city 
free  from  all  strangers,  and  land,  according  to  Euripides, 

Large  for  large  hosts,  for  twice  their  number  much, 

and,  above  all,  an  abundance  of  laborers  about  Sparta,  who 
should  not  be  left  idle,  but  be  kept  down  with  continual  toil 
and  work,  did  well  to  take  off  his  citizens  from  laborious  and 
mechanical  occupations,  and  keep  them  to  their  arms,  and 
teach  them  only  the  art  of  war.  But  Solon,  fitting  his  laws 
to  the  state  of  things,  and  not  making  things  to  suit  his  laws, 
and  finding  the  ground  scarce  rich  enough  to  maintain  the 
husbandmen,  and  altogether  incapable  of  feeding  an  unoc- 
cupied and  leisured  multitude,  brought  trades  into  credit,  and 
ordered  the  Areopagites  to  examine  how  every  man  got  his 
living,  and  chastise  the  idle.  But  that  law  was  yet  more  rigid 
which,  as  Heraclides  Ponticus  delivers,  declared  the  sons  of 
unmarried  mothers  not  obliged  to  relieve  their  fathers  ; for  he 
that  avoids  the  honorable  form  of  union  shows  that  he  does 
net  take  a woman  for  children,  but  for  pleasure,  and  thus 
geib  his  just  reward,  and  has  taken  away  from  himself  every 
title  to  upbraid  his  children,  to  whom  he  has  made  their  very 
birth  a scandal  and  reproach. 

Solon’s  laws  in  general  about  women  are  his  strangest ; 
for  he  permitted  any  one  to  kill  an  adulterer  that  found  him 
in  the  act ; but  if  any  one  forced  a free  woman,  a hundred 
drachmas  was  the  fine  ; if  he  enticed  her,  twenty ; except 
those  that  sell  themselves  openly,  that  is,  harlots,  whe  go 
openly  to  those  that  hire  them.  He  made  it  unlawful  to  sell 


144 


SOLON. 


a daughter  or  a sister,  unless,  being  yet  unmarried,  she  was 
found  wanton.  Now  it  is  irrational  to  punish  the  same  crime 
sometimes  very  severely  and  without  remorse,  and  sometimes 
very  lightly,  and  as  it  were  in  sport,  with  a trivial  fine ; 
unless  there  being  little  money  then  in  Athens,  scarcity  made 
those  mulcts  the  more  grievous  punishment.  In  the  valuation 
for  sacrifices,  a sheep  and  a bushel  were  both  estimated  at  a 
drachma ; the  victor  in  the  Isthmian  games,  was  to  have  foi 
reward  an  hundred  drachmas  ; the  conqueror  in  the  Olympian, 
five  hundred ; he  that  brought  a wolf,  five  drachmas  ; for  a 
whelp,  one  ; the  former  sum,  as  Demetrius  the  Phalerian  as- 
serts, was  the  value  of  an  ox,  the  latter,  of  a sheep.  The 
prices  which  Solon,  in  his  sixteenth  table,  sets  on  choice  vic- 
tims, were  naturally  far  greater  ; yet  they,  too,  are  very  low 
in  comparison  of  the  present.  The  Athenians  were,  from 
the  beginning,  great  enemies  to  wolves,  their  fields  being 
better  for  pasture  than  corn.  Some  affirm  their  tribes  did 
not  take  their  names  from  the  sons  of  Ion,  but  from  the  dif- 
ferent sorts  of  occupation  that  they  followed  ; the  soldiers 
were  called  Hoplitae,  the  craftsmen  Ergades,  and,  of  the  re- 
maining two,  the  farmers  Gedeontes,  and  the  shepherds  and 
graziers  ^gicores. 

Since  the  country  has  but  few  rivers,  lakes,  or  large 
springs,  and  many  used  wells  which  they  had  dug,  there  was  a 
law  made,  that,  where  there  was  a public  well  within  a hippi- 
con^  that  is,  four  furlongs,  all  should  draw  at  that ; but  when 
it  was  farther  off,  they  should  try  and  procure  a well  of  their 
own  ; and  if  they  had  dug  ten  fathom  deep  and  could  find  no 
water,  they  had  liberty  to  fetch  a pitcherful  of  four  gallons 
and  a half  in  a day  from  their  neighbors’  j for  he  thought  it 
prudent  to  make  provision  against  want,  but  not  to  supply 
laziness.  He  showed  skill  in  his  orders  about  planting,  for 
any  one  that  would  plant  another  tree  was  not  to  set  it  within 
five  feet  of  his  neighbor’s  field  ; but  if  a fig  or  an  olive,  not 
within  nine  ; for  their  roots  spread  farther,  nor  can  they  be 
planted  near  all  sorts  of  trees  without  damage,  for  they  draw 
away  the  nourishment,  and  in  some  cases  are  noxious  by  their 
effluvia.  He  that  would  dig  a pit  or  a ditch  was  to  dig  it 
at  the  distance  of  its  own  depth  from  his  neighbor’s  ground 
and  he  that  would  raise  stocks  of  bees  was  not  to  place 
them  within  three  hundred  feet  of  those  which  another  had 
already  raised. 

He  permitted  only  oil  to  be  exported,  and  those  that  ex- 
ported any  other  fruit,  the  archon  was  solemnly  to  curse,  or 


SOLOK. 


145 

ilse  pay  an  hundred  drachmas  himself;  and  this  law  was 
written  in  his  first  table,  and,  therefore,  let  none  think  it  in- 
credible, as  some  affirm,  that  the  exportation  of  figs  was  once 
unlawful,  and  the  informer  against  the  delinquents  called  a 
sycophant.  He  made  a law,  also,  concerning  hurts  and  inju- 
ries from  beasts,  in  which  he  commands  the  master  of  any  dog 
that  bit  a man  to  deliver  him  up  with  a log  about  his  neck,  four 
and  a half  feet  long  ; a happy  device  for  men’s  security.  The 
law  concerning  naturalizing  strangers  is  of  doubtful  character; 
he  permitted  only  those  to  be  made  free  of  Athens  who  were 
in  perpetual  exile  from  their  own  country,  or  came  with  their 
whole  family  to  trade  there ; this  he  did,  not  to  discourage 
• strangers,  but  rather  to  invite  them  to  a permanent  participa- 
tion in  the  privileges  of  the  government ; and,  besides,  he 
thought  those  would  prove  the  more  faithful  citizens  who  had 
been  forced  from  their  own  country,  or  voluntarily  forsook  it. 
The  law  of  public  entertainment  {Jyarasitein  is  his  name  for  it) 
is  also  peculiarly  Solon’s  ; for  if  any  man  came  often,  or  if 
he  that  was  invited  refused,  they  were  punished,  for  he  con- 
cluded that  one  was  greedy,  the  other  a contemner  of  the 
state. 

All  his  laws  he  established  for  an  hundred  years,  and 
wrote  them  on  wooden  tables  or  rollers,  named  axones,  which 
might  be  turned  round  in  oblong  cases  ; some  of  their  relics 
were  in  my  time  still  to  be  seen  in  the  Prytaneum,  or  common 
hall,  at  Athens.  These,  as  Aristotle  states,  were  called  cyr- 
bes,  and  there  is  a passage  of  Cratinus  the  comedian, 

By  Solon,  and  by  Draco,  if  you  please, 

Whose  Cyrbes  make  the  fires  that  parch  our  peas. 

But  some  say  those  are  properly  cyrbes,  which  contain  laws 
concerning  sacrifices  and  the  rites  of  religion,  and  all  the 
others  axones.  The  council  all  jointly  swore  to  confirm  the  laws, 
and  every  one  of  the  Thesmothetse  vowed  for  himself  at  the 
stone  in  the  market-place,  that  if  he  broke  any  of  the  statutes, 
he  would  dedicate  a golden  statue,  as  big  as  himself,  at  Delphi. 

Observing  the  irregularity  of  the  months,  and  that  the 
moon  does  not  always  rise  and  set  with  the  sun,  but  often  in 
the  same  day  overtakes  and  gets  before  him,  he  ordered  the 
day  should  be  named  the  Old  and  New,  attributing  that  part 
of  it  which  was  before  the  conjunction  to  the  old  moon,  and 
the  rest  to  the  new,  he  being  the  first,  it  seems,  that  under- 
stood that  verse  of  Homer, 

The  end  and  the  beginning  of  the  month. 


146 


sc  LOK. 


and  the  following  day  he  called  the  new  moon.  After  the 
twentieth  he  did  not  count  by  addition,  but,  like  the  moon 
itself  in  its  wane,  by  subtraction  ; thus  up  to  the  thirtieth. 

Now  when  these  laws  were  enacted,  and  some  came  to  So- 
lon every  day,  to  commend  or  dispraise  them,  and  to  advise, 
if  possible,  to  leave  out,  or  put  in  something,  and  many  criti- 
cised, and  desire  him  to  explain,  and  tell  the  meaning  of  such 
and  such  a passage,  he,  knowing  that  to  do  it  was  useless,  and 
not  to  do  it  would  get  him  ill-will,  and  desirous  to  bring  him- 
self out  of  all  straits,  and  to  escape  all  displeasure  and  ex- 
ceptions, it  being  a hard  thing,  as  he  himself  says, 

In  great  affairs  to  satisfy  all  sides, 

as  an  excuse  for  travelling,  bought  a trading  vessel,  and, 
having  leave  for  ten  years’  absence,  departed,  hoping  that  by 
that  time  his  laws  would  have  become  familiar. 

His  first  voyage  was  for  Egypt,  and  he  lived,  as  he  himself 
says. 

Near  Nilus'  mouth,  by  fair  Canopus’  shore, 

and  spent  some  time  in  study  with  Psenophis  of  Heliopolis, 
and  Sonchis  the  Saite,  the  most  learned  of  all  the  priests  ; 
from  whom,  as  Plato  says,  getting  knowledge  of  the  Atlantic 
story,  he  put  it  into  a poem,  and  proposed  to  bring  it  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  Greeks.  From  thence  he  sailed  to  Cyprus, 
where  he  was  made  much  of  by  Philocyprus,  one  of  the  kings 
there,  who  had  a small  city  built  by  Demophon,  Theseus’s 
son,  near  the  river  Clarius,  in  a strong  situation,  but  incom- 
modius  and  uneasy  of  access.  Solon  persuaded  him,  since 
there  lay  a fair  plain  below,  to  remove,  and  build  there  a 
pleasanter  and  more  spacious  city.  And  he  stayed  himself, 
and  assisted  in  gathering  inhabitants,  and  in  fitting  it  both 
for  defence  and  convenience  of  living  ; insomuch  that  many 
flocked  to  Philocyprus,  and  the  other  kings  imitated  the 
design  ; and,  therefore,  to  honor  Solon,  he  called  the  city 
Soli,  which  was  formerly  named  -^pea.  And  Solon  himself, 
in  his  Elegies,  addressing  Philocyprus,  mentions  this  founda- 
tion in  these  words — 

Long  may  you  live,  and  fill  the  Solian  throne, 

Succeeded  still  by  children  of  your  own  ; 

And  from  your  happy  island  while  I sail. 

Let  Cyprus  send  for  me  a favoring  gale ; 

May  she  advance,  and  bless  your  new  command, 

Prosper  your  town,  and  send  me  safe  to  land. 

That  Solon  should  discourse  with  Croesus,  some  think  not 


$OI.ON. 


U7 

agreeable  with  chronology ; but  I cannot  reject  so  famous 
and  well-attested  a narrative,  and,  what  is  more,  so  agreeable 
to  Solon’s  temper,  and  so  worthy  his  wisdom  and  greatness 
of  mind,  because,  forsooth,  it  does  not  agree  with  some 
chronological  canons,  which  thousands  have  endeavored  to 
regulate,  and  yet,  to  this  day,  could  never  bring  their  differ- 
ing opinions  to  any  agreement.  They  say,  therefore,  that  Solon 
coming  to  Croesus  at  his  request,  was  in  the  same  condition 
as  an  inland  man  when  first  he  goes  to  see  the  sea ; for  as  he 
fancies  every  river  he  meets  with  to  be  the  ocean,  so  Solon, 
as  he  passed  through  the  court,  and  saw  a great  many  nobles 
richly  dressed,  and  proudly  attended  with  a multitude  of 
guards  and  footboys,  thought  every  one  had  been  the  king, 
till  he  was  brought  to  Croesus,  who  was  decked  with  every 
possible  rarity  and  curiosity,  in  ornaments  of  jewels,  purple, 
and  gold,  that  could  make  a grand  and  gorgeous  spectacle  of 
him.  Now  when  Solon  came  before  him,  and  seemed  not  at 
all  surprised,  nor  gave  Croesus  those  compliments  he  expect- 
ed, but  showed  himself  to  all  discerning  eyes  to  be  a man 
that  despised  the  gaudiness  and  petty  ostentation  of  it,  he 
commanded  them  to  open  all  his  treasure  houses,  and  carry 
him  to  see  his  sumptuous  furniture  and  luxuries,  though  he 
did  not  wish  it  / Solon  could  judge  of  him  well  enough  by  the 
first  sight  of  him  ; and,  when  he  returned  from  viewing  all, 
Croesus  asked  him  if  ever  he  had  known  a happier  man  than 
he.  And  when  Solon  answered  that  he  had  known  one 
Tellus,  a fellow-citizen  of  his  own,  and  told  him  that  this 
Tellus  had  been  an  honest  man,  had  had  good  children,  a 
competent  estate,  and  died  bravely  in  battle  for  his  country, 
Croesus  took  him  for  an  ill-bred  fellow  and  a fool,  for  not 
measuring  happiness  by  the  abundance  of  gold  and  silver, 
and  preferring  the  life  and  death  of  a private  and  mean  man 
before  so  much  power  and  empire.  He  asked  him,  however, 
again,  if,  besides  Tellus,  he  knew  any  other  man  more  happy. 
And  Solon  replying.  Yes,  Cleobis  and  Biton,  who  were  loving 
brothers,  and  extremely  dutiful  sons  to  their  mother,  and, 
when  the  oxen  delayed  her,  harnessed  themselves  to  the  wagon, 
and  drew  her  to  Juno’s  temple,  her  neighbors  all  calling  her 
happy,  and  she  herself  rejoicing  ; then,  after  sacrificing  and 
feasting,  they  went  to  rest,  and  never  rose  again,  but  died  in 
the  midst  of  their  honor  a painless  and  tranquil  death, 
‘‘  What,”  said  Croesus,  angrily,  and  dost  not  thou  reckon  us 
amongst  the  happy  men  at  all  ?”  Solon,  unwilling  either  to 
flatter  or  exasperate  him  more,  replied,  “ The  gods,  O king^ 


148 


SOLON. 


have  given  the  Greeks  all  other  gifts  in  moderate  degree  ; 
and  so  our  wisdom,  too,  is  a cheerful  and  a homely,  not  a 
noble  and  kingly  wisdom  ; and  this,  observing  the  numerous 
misfortunes  that  attend  all  conditions,  forbids  us  to  grow  in- 
solent upon  our  present  e ijoyments,  or  to  admire  any  man’s 
happiness  that  may  yet,  in  course  of  time,  suffer  change.  For 
the  uncertain  future  has  yet  to  come,  with  every  possible 
variety  of  fortune  ; and  him  only  to  whom  the  divinity  has 
continued  happiness  unto  the  end,  we  call  happy ; to  salute  as 
happy  one  that  is  still  in  the  midst  of  life  and  hazard,  we 
think  as  little  safe  and  conclusive  as  to  crown  and  proclaim 
as  victorious  the  wrestler  that  is  yet  in  the  ring.”  After  this, 
he  was  dismissed,  having  given  Croesus  some  pain,  but  no 
instruction. 

^sop,  who  wrote  the  fables,  being  then  at  Sardis  upon 
Croesus’s  invitation,  and  very  much  esteemed,  was  concerned 
that  Solon  was  so  ill  received,  and  gave  him  this  advice  : 

Solon,  let  your  converse  with  kings  be  either  short  or  sea- 
sonable.” “ Nay,  rather,”  replied  Solon,  “either  short  or  rea- 
sonable.” So  at  this  time  Croesus  despised  Solon ; but  when 
he  was  overcome  by  Cyrus,  had  lost  his  city,  was  taken  alive, 
condemned  to  be  burnt,  and  laid  bound  upon  the  pile  before 
all  the  Persians  and  Cyrus  himself,  he  cried  out  as  loud  as 
possibly  he  could  three  times,  “ O Solon  ! ” and  Cyrus  being 
surprised,  and  sending  some  to  inquire  what  man  or  god  this 
Solon  was,  who  alone  he  invoked  in  this  extermity,  Croesus 
told  him  the  whole  story,  saying,  “ He  was  one  of  the  wise 
men  of  Greece,  whom  I sent  for,  not  to  be  instructed,  or  to 
learn  any  thing  that  I wanted,  but  that  he  should  see  and  be 
a witness  of  my  happiness  ; the  loss  of  which  was,  it  seems,  to 
be  a greater  evil  than  the  enjoyment  was  a good  ; for  when  I 
had  them  they  were  goods  only  in  opinion,  but  now  the  loss 
of  them  has  brought  upon  me  intolerable  and  real  evils.  And 
he,  conjecturing  from  what  then  was,  this  that  now  is,  bade 
look  to  the  end  of  my  life,  and  not  rely  and  grow  proud  upon 
uncertainties.”  When  this  was  told  Cyrus,  who  was  a wiser 
man  then  Croesus,  and  saw  in  the  present  example  Solon’s 
maxim  confirmed,  he  not  only  freed  Croesus  from  punishment, 
but  honored  him  as  long  as  he  lived  ; and  Solon  had  the 
glory,  by  the  same  saying,  to  save  one  king  and  instruct  an- 
other. 

WHien  Solon  was  gone,  the  citizens  began  to  quarrel; 
Lycurgus  headed  the  Plain  ; Megacles,  the  son  of  Alcmaeon, 
those  to  the  Sea-side  ; and  Pisistratus  the  Hill-party,  in  which 


SOLON. 


149 


were  the  poorest  people,  the  Thetes,  and  greatest  enemies  to 
the  rich  ; insomuch  that,  though  the  city  still  used  the  new 
laws,  yet  all  looked  for  and  desired  a change  of  government, 
hoping  severally  that  the  change  would  be  better  for  them, 
and  put  them  above  the  contrary  faction.  Affairs  standing 
thus,  Solon  returned,  and  was  reverenced  by  all,  and  honored  ; 
f but  his  old  age  would  not  permit  him  to  be  as  active,  and  to 
speak  in  public,  as  formerly ; yet,  by  privately  conferring  with 
the  heads  of  the  factions,  he  endeavored  to  compose  the  dif- 
ferences, Pisistratus  appearing  the  most  tractable  ; for  he  was 
extremely  smooth  and  engaging  in  his  language,  a great  friend 
to  the  poor,  and  moderate  in  his  resentments ; and  what 
nature  had  not  given  him,  he  had  the  skill  to  imitate  ; so  that 
he  was  trusted  more  than  the  others,  being  accounted  a pru- 
dent and  orderly  man,  one  that  loved  equality,  and  would  be 
an  enemy  to  any  that  moved  against  the  present  settlement. 
Thus  he  deceived  the  majority  of  people ; but  Solon  quickly 
discovered  his  character,  and  found  out  his  design  before  any 
one  else ; yet  did  not  hate  him  upon  this,  but  endeavored  to 
humble  him,  and  bring  him  off  from  his  ambition,  and  often 
told  him  and  others,  that  if  any  one  could  banish  the  passion 
for  preeminence  from  his  mind,  and  cure  him  of  his  desire  of 
absolute  power,  none  would  make  a more  virtuous  man  or  a 
more  excellent  citizen.  Thespis,  at  this  time,  beginning  to 
act  tragedies,  and  the  thing,  because  it  was  new,  taking  very 
much  with  the  multitude,  though  it  was  not  yet  made  a matter 
of  competition,  Solon,  being  by  nature  fond  of  hearing  and 
learning  something  new,  and  now,  in  his  old  age,  living  idly, 
and  enjoying  himself,  indeed,  with  music  and  with  wine,  went 
to  see  Thespis  himself,  as  the  ancient  custom  was,  act : and 
after  the  play  was  done,  he  addressed  him,  and  asked  him  if 
he  was  not  ashamed  to  tell  so  many  lies  before  such  a number 
of  people  ; and  Thespis  replying  that  it  was  no  harm  to  say 
or  do  so  in  play,  Solon  vehemently  struck  his  staff  against  the 
ground  : “ Ah,’’  said  he,  “ if  we  honor  and  commend  such 
play  as  this,  we  shall  find  it  some  day  in  our  business.’^ 

Now  when  Pisistratus,  having  wounded  himself,  was 
brought  into  the  market-place  in  a chariot,  and  stirred  up  the 
people,  as  if  he  had  been  thus  treated  by  his  opponents  be- 
cause of  his  political  conduct,  and  a great  many  were  enraged 
and  cried  out,  Solon,  coming  close  to  him,  said,  “ This,  O son 
of  Hippocrates,  is  a bad  copy  of  Homer’s  Ulysses  ; you  do, 
to  trick  3 our  countrymen,  what  he  did  to  deceive  his  enemies.’’ 
After  this,  the  people  were  eager  to  protect  Pisistratus,  and 


SOLON. 


ISO 

met  in  an  assembly,  where  one  Ariston  making  a motion  that 
they  should  allow  Pisistratus  fifty  clubmen  for  a guard  to  his 
person,  Solon  opposed  it,  and  said  much  to  the  same  purport 
as  what  he  has  left  us  in  his  poems. 

You  doat  upon  his  words  and  taking  phrase : 
and  again, — 

True,  you  are  singly  each  a crafty  soul, 

But  all  together  make  one  empty  fool. 

1ju‘  observing  the  poor  men  bent  to  gratify  Pisistratus,  and 
tumultuous,  and  the  rich  fearful  and  getting  out  of  harm’s 
way,  he  departed,  saying  he  was  wiser  than  some  and  stouter 
than  others ; wiser  than  those  that  did  not  understand  the 
design,  stouter  than  those  that,  though  they  understood  it, 
were  afraid  to  oppose  the  tyranny.  Now,  the  people,  having 
passed  the  law,  were  not  nice  with  Pisistratus  about  the 
number  of  his  clubmen,  but  took  no  notice  of  it,  though  he 
enlisted  and  kept  as  many  as  he  would,  until  he  seized  the 
Acropolis.  When  that  was  done,  and  the  city  in  an  uproar, 
Megacles,  with  all  his  family,  at  once  fled  ; but  Solon,  though 
he  was  now  very  old,  and  had  none  to  back  him,  yet  came 
into  the  market  place  and  made  a speech  to  the  citizens, 
partly  blaming  their  inadvertency  and  meanness  of  spirit,  and 
in  part  urging  and  exhorting  them  not  thus  tamely  to  lose 
their  liberty  ; and  likewise  then  spoke  that  memorable  say- 
ing, that,  before,  it  was  an  easier  task  to  stop  the  rising  tyran- 
ny, but  now  the  greater  and  more  glorious  action  to  destroy 
it,  when  it  was  begun  already,  and  had  gathered  strength. 
But  all  being  afraid  to  side  with  him,  he  returned  home,  and, 
taking  his  arms,  he  brought  them  out  and  laid  them  in  the 
porch  before  his  door,  with  these  words  : ‘‘  I have  done  my 
part  to  maintain  my  country  and  my  laws,”  and  then  he 
busied  himself  no  more.  His  friends  advising  him  to  fly,  he 
refused,  but  wrote  poems,  and  thus  reproached  the  Athenians 
in  them, — 

If  now  you  suffer,  do  not  blame  the  Powers, 

For  they  are  good,  and  all  the  fault  was  ours. 

All  the  strongholds  you  put  into  his  hands, 

And  now  his  slaves  must  do  what  he  commands. 

And  many  telling  him  that  the  tyrant  would  take  his  life  lor 
this,  and  asking  what  he  trusted  to,  that  he  ventured  to  speak 
so  boldly,  he  replied,  “ To  my  old  age.”  But  Pisistratus, 
having  got  the  command,  so  extremely  courted  Solon,  so  hon- 
ored him,  obliged  him,  and  sent  to  see  him,  that  Solon  gave. 


SOLOX. 


him  his  advice,  and  approved  many  of  his  actions  ; for  he 
retained  most  of  Solon’s  laws,  observed  them  himself,  and 
compel’ ed  his  friends  to  obey.  And  he  himself,  though 
already  absolute  ruler,  being  accused  of  murder  before  the 
Areopagus,  came  quietly  to  clear  himself ; but  his  accuser 
did  not  appear.  And  he  added  other  laws,  one  of  which  is 
that  the  maimed  in  the  wars  should  be  maintained  at  the 
public  charge  ; this  Heraclides  Ponticus  records,  and  that 
Pisistratus  followed  Solon’s  example  in  this,  who  had  decreed 
it  in  the  case  of  one  Thersippus,  that  was  maimed ; and  The- 
ophrastus asserts  that  it  was  Pisistratus,  not  Solon,  that  made 
that  law  against  laziness,  which  was  the  reason  that  the 
country  was  more  productive,  and  the  city  tranquiller. 

Now  Solon,  having  begun  the  great  work  in  verse,  the 
history  or  fable  of  the  Atlantic  Island,  which  he  had  learned 
from  the  wise  men  in  Sais,  and  thought  convenient  for  the 
Athenians  to  know,  abandoned  it ; not  as  Plato  says,  by 
reason  of  want  of  time,  but  because  of  his  age,  and  being  dis- 
couraged at  the  greatness  of  the  task  ; for  that  he  had  leisure 
enough,  such  verses  testify,  as 

Each  day  grow  older,  and  learn  something  new ; 
and  again, — 

But  now  the  Powers,  of  Beauty,  Song,  and  Wine, 

Which  are  most  men’s  delights,  are  also  mine. 

Plato,  willing  to  improve  the  story  of  the  Atlantic  Isla’nd,  as 
if  it  were  a fair  estate  that  wanted  an  heir  and  came  with 
some  title  to  him,  formed,  indeed,  stately  entrances,  noble 
enclosures,  large  courts,  such  as  never  yet  introduced  any 
story,  fable,  or  poetic  fiction  ; but,  beginning  it  late,  ended 
his  life  before  his  work ; and  the  reader’s  regret,  for  the  un- 
finished part  is  the  greater,  as  the  satisfaction  he  takes  in 
that  which  is  complete  is  extraordinary.  For  as  the  city  of 
Athens  left  only  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Olympius  unfinished, 
so  Plato,  amongst  all  his  excellent  works,  left  this  only  piece 
about  the  Atlantic  Island  imperfect.  Solon  lived  after  Pisis- 
tratus seized  the  government,  as  Heraclides  Ponticus  asserts, 
a long  time  ; but  Phanias  the  Eresian  says  not  two  full  years  ; 
for  Pisistratus  began  his  tyranny  when  Comias  was  archon, 
and  Phanias  says  Solon  died  under  Hegestratus,  who  suc- 
ceeded Comias.  The  story  that  his  ashes  were  scattered 
about  the  island  Salamis  is  too  strange  to  be  easily  believed, 
or  be  thought  any  thing  but  a mere  fable  ; and  yet  it  is  given, 
amongst  other  good  authors,  by  Aristotle,  the  philosopher. 


152 


POrLICOLA. 


POPLICOLA. 

Such,  was  Solon.  To  him  we  compare  Poplicola,  who 
ceived  this  later  title  from  the  Roman  people  for  his  merit,  as 
a noble  accession  to  his  former  name,  Publius  Valerius.  lie 
descended  from  Valerius,  a man  amongst  the  early  citizens, 
reputed  the  principal  reconciler  of  the  differences  betwixt 
the  Romans  and  Sabines,  and  one  that  was  most  instru- 
mental in  persuading  their  kings  to  assent  to  peace  and 
union.  Thus  descended,  Publius  Valerius,  as  it  is  said, 
whilst  Rome  remained  under  its  kingly  government,  obtained 
as  great  a name  from  his  eloquence  as  from  his  riches,  chari- 
tably employing  the  one  in  liberal  aid  to  the  poor,  the  other 
with  integrity  and  freedom  in  the  service  of  justice ; thereby 
giving  assurance,  that,  should  the  government  fall  into  a re- 
public, he  would  become  a chief  man  in  the  community. 
The  illegal  and  wicked  accession  of  Tarquinius  Superbus  to 
the  crown,  with  his  making  it,  instead  of  kingly  rule,  the  in- 
strument of  insolence  and  tyranny,  having  inspired  the  people 
with  a hatred  to  his  reign,  upon  the  death  of  Lucre tia  (she 
killing  herself  after  violence  had  been  done  to  her),  they  took 
an  occasion  of  revolt ; and  Lucius  Brutus,  engaging  in  the 
change,  came  to  Valerius  before  all  others,  and,  with  his 
zealous  assistance,  deposed  the  kings.  And  whilst  the  peo- 
ple inclined  towards  the  electing  one  leader  instead  of  their 
king,  Valerius  acquiesced,  that  to  rule  was  rather  Brutus’s 
due,  as  the  author  of  the  democracy.  But  when  the  name 
of  monarchy  was  odious  to  the  people,  and  a divided  power 
appeared  more  grateful  in  the  prospect,  and  two  were  chosen 
to  hold  it,  Valerius,  entertaining  hopes  that  he  might  be 
elected  consul  with  Brutus,  was  disappointed ; for,  instead  of 
Valerius,  notwithstanding  the  endeavors  of  Brutus,  Taiquin- 
ius  Collatinus  was  chosen,  the  husband  of  Lucretia,  a man 
noways  his  superior  in  merit.  But  the  nobles,  dreading  the 
return  of  their  kings,  who  still  used  all  endeavors  abroad  and 
solicitations  at  home,  were  resolved  upon  a chieftain  of  an 
intense  hatred  to  them,  and  noways  likely  to  yield. 

Now  Valerius  was  troubled,  that  his  desire  to  serve  his 
country  should  be  doubted,  because  he  had  sustained  no 
private  injury  from  the  insolence  of  the  tyrants.  He  with- 
drew from  the  senate  and  practice  of  the  bar,  quitting  all 


POPLICOLA. 


IS3 

public  concerns ; which  gave  ap  occasion  of  discourse,  and 
fear,  too,  lest  his  anger  should  reconcile  him  to  the  king’s 
side,  and  he  should  prove  the  ruin  of  the  state,  tottering  as* 
yet  under  the  uncertainties  of  a change.  But  Brutus  bein^ 
doubtful  of  some  others,  and  determined  to  give  the  test  to 
the  senate  upon  the  altars,  upon  the  day  appointed  Valerius 
came  with  cheerfulness  into  the  forum,  and  was  the  first  man 
that  took  the  oath,  in  no  way  to  submit  or  yield  to  Tarquin’s 
propositions,  but  rigorously  to  maintain  liberty ; which  gave 
great  satisfaction  to  the  senate  and  assurance  to  the  consuls, 
his  actions  soon  after  showing  the  sincerity  of  his  oath. 
For  ambassadors  came  from  Tarquin,  with  popular  and  spe- 
cious proposals,  whereby  they  thought  to  seduce  the  people, 
as  though  the  king  had  cast  off  all  insolence,  and  made  mod- 
eration the  only  measure  of  his  desires.  To  this  embassy 
the  consuls  thought  fit  to  give  public  audience,  but  Valerius 
opposed  it,  and  would  not  permit  that  the  poorer  people,  who 
entertained  more  fear  of  war  than  of  tyranny,  should  have  any 
occasion  offered  them,  or  any  temptations  to  new  designs. 
Afterwards  other  ambassadors  arrived,  who  declared  their  king 
would  recede  from  his  crown,  and  lay  down  his  arms,  only 
capitulating  for  a restitution  to  himself,  his  friends,  and  allies, 
of  their  moneys  and  estates  to  support  them  in  their  banish- 
ment. Now,  several  inclining  to  the  request,  and  Collatinus 
in  particular  favoring  it,  Brutus,  a man  of  vehement  and  un- 
bending nature,  rushed  into  the  forum,  there  proclaiming  his 
fellow-consul  to  be  a traitor,  in  granting  subsidies  to  tyranny, 
and  supplies  for  a war  to  those  to  whom  it  was  monstrous  to 
allow  so  much  as  subsistence  in  exile.  This  caused  an  as- 
sembly of  the  citizens,  amongst  whom  the  first  that  spake 
was  Caius  Minucius,  a private  man,  who  advised  Brutus,  and 
urged  the  Romans  to  keep  the  property,  and  employ  it 
against  the  tyrants,  rather  than  to  remit  it  to  the  tyrants,  to 
be  used  against  themselves.  The  Romans,  however,  decided 
that  whilst  they  had  enjoyed  the  liberty  they  had  fought 
for,  they  should  not  sacrifice  peace  for  the  sake  of  money, 
but  send  out  the  tyrants’  property  after  them.  This  ques- 
tion, however,  of  his  property,  was  the  least  part  of  Tar- 
quin’s  design;  the  demand  sounded  the  feelings  of  the 
people,  and  was  preparatory  to  a conspiracy  which  the  am- 
bassadors endeavored  to  excite,  delaying  their  return,  under 
pretence  of  selling  some  of  the  goods  and  reserving  others  to 
be  sent  away,  till,  in  fine,  they  corrupted  two  of  the  most  em- 
inent lamilies  in  Rome,  the  Aquillian,  which  had  three,  and 


154 


POPLICOLA. 


the  Vitellian,  which  had  two  senators.  These  all  were,  by 
the  mother’s  side,  nephews  to  Collatinus ; besides  which 
Brutus  had  a special  alliance  to  the  Vitellii  from  his  marriage 
with  their  sister,  by  whom  he  had  several  children  ; two  of 
whom,  of  their  own  age,  their  near  relations  and  daily  com- 
panions, the  Vitellii  seduced  to  join  in  the  plot,  to  ally  them- 
selves to  the  great  house  and  royal  hopes  of  the  Tarquins, 
and  gain  emancipation  from  the  violence  and  imbecility  united 
of  their  father,  whose  austerity  to  offenders  they  termed  vio- 
lence, while  the  imbecility  which  he  had  long  feigned,  to  protect 
himself  from  the  tyrants,  still,  it  appears,  was,  in  name  at 
least,  ascribed  to  him.  When  upon  these  inducements  the 
youths  came  to  confer  with  the  Aquillii,  all  thought  it  conve- 
nient to  bind  themselves  in  a solemn  and  dreadful  oath,  by 
tasting  the  blood  of  a murdered  man,  and  touching  his  en- 
trails. For  which  design  they  met  at  the  house  of  the 
Aquillii.  The  building  chosen  for  the  transaction  was,  as  was 
natural,  dark  and  unfrequented,  and  a slave  named  Vindicius 
had,  as  it  chanced,  concealed  himself  there,  not  out  of  design 
or  any  intelligence  of  the  affair,  but,  accidentally  being  with- 
in, seeing  with  how  much  haste  and  concern  they  came  in,  he 
was  afraid  to  be  discovered,  and  placed  himself  behind  a 
chest,  where  he  was  able  to  observe  their  actions  and  over- 
hear their  debates.  Their  resolutions  were  to  kill  the  consuls, 
and  they  wrote  letters  to  Tarquin  to  this  effect,  and  gave 
them  to  the  ambassadors,  who  were  lodging  upon  the  spot 
with  the  Aquillii,  and  were  present  at  the  consultation. 

Upon  their  departure,  Vindicius  secretly  quitted  the  house, 
but  was  at  a loss  what  to  do  in  the  matter,  for  to  arraign 
the  sons  before  the  father  Brutus,  or  the  nephews  before  the 
uncle  Collatinus,  seemed  equally  (as  indeed  it  was)  shock- 
ing ; yet  he  knew  no  private  Roman  to  whom  he  could  in- 
trust secrets  of  such  importance.  Unable,  however,  to  keep 
silence,  and  burdened  with  his  knowledge,  he  went  and  ad- 
dressed himself  to  Valerius,  whose  known  freedom  and  kind- 
ness of  temper  were  an  inducement ; as  he  was  a person  to 
whom  the  needy  had  easy  access,  and  who  never  shut  his  gates 
against  the  petitions  or  indigences  of  humble  people.  But 
when  Vindicius  came  and  made  a complete  discovery  to  him, 
his  brother  Marcus  and  his  own  wife  being  present,  Valerius 
was  struck  with  amazement,  and  by  no  means  would  dismiss 
the  discoverer,  but  confined  him  to  the  room,  and  placed  his 
wife  as  a guard  to  the  door,  sending  his  brother  in  the  interim 
to  beset  the  king’s  palace,  and  seize,  if  possible,  the  writing? 


POPLICOLA. 


ISS 

there,  and  secure  the  domestics,  whilst  he,  with  his  constant 
attendance  of  clients  and  friends,  and  a great  retinue  of  at- 
tendants, repaired  to  the  house  of  the  Aquillii,  who  were,  as  it 
chanced,  absent  from  home  ; and  so,  forcing  an  entrance 
through  the  gates,  they  lit  upon  the  letters  then  lying  in  the 
lodgings  of  the  ambassadors.  Meantime  the  Aquillii  returned 
in  all  haste,  and,  coming  to  blows  about  the  gate,  endeavored 
a recovery  of  the  letters.  The  other  party  made  a resistance, 
^ind  throwing  their  gowns  around  their  opponents’  necks,  at 
ast,  after  much  struggling  on  both  sides,  made  their  way 
with  their  prisoners  through  the  streets  into  the  forum.  The 
like  engagement  happened  about  the  king’s  palace,  where 
Marcus  seized  some  other  letters  which  it  was  designed  should 
be  conveyed  away  in  the  goods,  and,  laying  hands  on  such  of 
the  king’s  people  as  he  could  find,  dragged  them  also  into 
the  forum.  When  the  consuls  had  quieted  the  tumult,  Vin- 
dicius  was  brought  out  by  the  orders  of  Valerius,  and  the 
accusation  stated,  and  the  letters  were  opened,  to  which  the 
traitors  could  make  no  plea.  Most  of  the  people  standing 
mute  and  sorrowful,  some  only,  out  of  kindness  to  Brutus, 
mentioning  banishment,  the  tears  of  Collatinus,  attended 
with  Valerius’s  silence,  gave  some  hopes  of  mercy.  But 
Brutus,  calling  his  two  sons  by  their  names,  “ Canst  not 
thou,”  said  he,  ‘‘  O Titus,  or  thou,  Tiberius,  make  any  defence 
against  the  indictment?”  The  question  being  thrice  pro- 
posed, and  no  reply  made,  he  turned  himself  to  the  lictors 
and  cried,  “ What  remains  is  your  duty.”  They  immediately 
seized  the  youths,  and,  stripping  them  of  their  clothes,  bound 
their  hands  behind  them  and  scourged  their  bodies  with  their 
rods  ; too  tragical  a scene  for  others  too  look  at ; Brutus, 
however,  is  said  not  to  have  turned  aside  his  face,  nor  allow- 
ed the  least  glance  of  pity  to  soften  and  smoothe  his  aspect 
of  rigor  and  austerity ; but  sternly  watched  his  children  suf- 
fer, even  till  the  lictors,  extending  them  on  the  ground,  cut 
off  their  heads  with  an  axe  ; then  departed,  committing  the 
rest  to  the  judgment  of  his  colleague.  An  action  truly 
open  alike  to  the  highest  commendation  and  the  strongest 
censure  ; for  either  the  greatness  of  his  virtue  raised  him 
above  the  impressions  of  sorrow,  or  the  extravagance  of  his 
misery  took  away  all  sense  of  it ; but  neither  seemed  com- 
mon, or  the  result  of  humanity,  but  either  divine  or  brutish. 
Yet  it  is  more  reasonable  that  our  judgment  should  yield  to 
his  reputation,  than  that  his  merit  should  suffer  detraction  by 
the  weakness  of  our  judgment ; in  the  Roman’s  opinion^ 


POPLICOLA. 


Brutus  did  a greater  work  in  the  establishment  of  the  govern- 
ment than  Romulus  in  the  foundation  of  the  city. 

Upon  Brutus’s  departure  out  of  the  forum,  consternatio, 
horror,  and  silence  for  some  time  possessed  all  that  reflectev^ 
on  what  was  done  ; the  easiness  and  tardiness,  however,  of 
Collatinus,  gave  confidence  to  the  Aquillii  to  request  some 
time  to  answer  their  charge,  and  that  Vindicius,  their  servant, 
should  be  remitted  into  their  hands,  and  no  longer  harbored 
amongst  their  accusers.  The  consul  seemed  inclined  to  their 
proposal,  and  was  proceeding  to  dissolve  the  assembly  ; but 
Valerius  would  not  suffer  Vindicius,  who  was  surrounded  by 
his  people,  to  be  surrendered,  nor  the  meeting  to  withdraw 
without  punishing  the  traitors  ; and  at  length  laid  violent 
hands  upon  the  Aquillii,  and,  calling  Brutus  to  his  assistance, 
exclaimed  against  the  unreasonable  course  of  Collatinus,  to 
impose  upon  his  colleague  the  necessity  of  taking  away  the 
lives  of  his  own  sons,  and  yet  have  thoughts  of  gratifying 
some  women  with  the  lives  of  traitors  and  public  enemies. 
Collatinus,  displeased  at  this,  and  commanding  Vindicius  to 
be  taken  away,  the  lictors  made  their  way  through  the  crowd 
and  seized  their  man,  and  struck  all  who  endeavored  a res- 
cue. Valerius’s  friends  headed  the  resistance,  and  the  peo- 
ple cried  out  for  Brutus,  who,  returning,  on  silence  being 
made,  told  them  he  had  been  competent  to  pass  sentence  by 
himself  upon  his  own  sons,  but  left  the  rest  to  the  suffrages 
of  the  free  citizens:  “Let  every  man  speak  that  washes,  and 
persuade  whom  he  can.”  But  there  w^as  no  need  of  oratory,  for, 
it  being  referred  to  the  vote,  they  were  returned  condemned 
by  all  the  suffrages,  and  were  accordingly  beheaded. 

Collatinus’s  relationship  to  the  kings  had,  ii.'deed,  already 
rendered  him  suspicious,  and  his  second  name,  too,  had  made 
him  obnoxious  to  the  people,  who  were  loth  to  hear  the  very 
sound  of  Tarquin  ; but  after  this  had  happened,  perceiving 
himself  an  offence  to  every  one,  he  relinquished  his  chaige 
and  departed  from  the  city.  At  the  new  elections  in  his 
room,  Valerius  obtained,  with  high  honor,  the  consulship,  as 
a just  reward  of  his  zeal ; of  which  he  thought  Vindicius  de- 
served a share,  whom  he  made,  first  of  all  freedmen,  a citizen 
of  Rome,  and  gave  him  the  privilege  of  voting  in  what  tribe 
soever  he  was  pleased  to  be  enrolled  ; other  freedmen  re 
ceived  the  right  of  suffrage  a long  time  after  from  Appius, 
who  thus  courted  popularity  ; and  from  this  Vindicius,  a per 
feet  manumission  is  called  to  this  day  vindicta.  This  done, 
the  goods  of  the  kings  were  exposed  to  plunder,  and  the  pal 
ace  to  ruin. 


POPLICOLA. 


^57 


The  pleasantest  part  of  the  field  jf  Mars,  which  Tarqain 
had  owned,  was  devoted  to  the  service  of  that  god  ; but,  it 
happening  to  be  harvest  season,  and  the  sheaves  yet  being 
on  the  ground,  they  thought  it  not  proper  to  commit  them  to 
the  flail,  or  unsanctify  them  with  any  use  ; and,  therefore, 
carrying  them  to  the  riverside,  and  trees  withal  that  were  cut 
down,  they  cast  all  into  the  water,  dedicating  the  soil,  free 
from  all  occupation,  to  the  deity.  Now,  these  thrown  in,  one 
upon  another,  and  closing  together,  the  stream  did  not  bear 
them  far,  but  where  the  first  were  carried  down  and  came  to  a 
bottom,  the  remainder,  finding  no  farther  conveyance,  were 
stopped  and  interwoven  one  with  another ; the  stream  work- 
ing the  mass  into  a firmness,  and  washing  down  fresh  mud. 
This,  settling  there,  became  an  accession  of  matter,  as  well 
as  cement,  to  the  rubbish,  insomuch  that  the  violence  of  the 
waters  could  not  remove  it,  but  forced  and  compressed  it  all 
together.  Thus  its  bulk  and  solidity  gained  it  new  subsidies, 
which  gave  it  extension  enough  to  stop  on  its  way  most  of 
what  the  stream  brought  down.  This  is  now  a sacred  island, 
lying  by  the  city,  adorned  with  the  temples  of  the  gods,  and 
walks,  and  is  called  in  the  Latin  tongue  inter  duos  pontes. 
Though  some  say  this  did  not  happen  at  the  dedication  of 
Tarquin^s  field,  but  in  aftertimes,  when  Tarquinia,  a vestal 
priestess,  gave  an  adjacent  field  to  the  public,  and  obtained 
great  honors  in  consequence,  as,  amongst  the  rest,  that  of  all 
women  her  testimony  alone  should  be  received ; she  had 
also  the  liberty  to  marry,  but  refused  it ; thus  some  tell  the 
story. 

Tarquin,  despairing  of  a return  to  his  kingdom  by  the 
conspiracy,  found  a kind  reception  amongst  the  Tuscans,  who, 
with  a great  army,  proceeded  to  restore  him.  The  consuls 
headed  the  Romans  against  them,  and  made  their  rendezvous  in 
certain  holy  places,  the  one  called  the  Arsian  grove,  the  other 
the  ^suvian  meadow.  When  they  came  into  action,  Aruns, 
the  son  of  Tarquin,  and  Brutus,  the  Roman  consul,  not  acci- 
dentally encountering  each  other,  but  out  of  hatred  and  rage, 
the  one  to  avenge  tyranny  and  enmity  to  his  country,  the 
other  his  banishment,  set  spurs  to  their  horses,  and,  engaging 
with  more  fury  than  forethought,  disregarding  their  own  se- 
curity, fell  together  in  the  combat.  This  dreadful  onset 
hardly  was  followed  by  a more  favorable  end  ; both  armies, 
doing  and  receiving  equal  damage,  were  separated  by  a storm. 
Valerius  was  much  concerned,  not  knowing  what  the  result 
^f  the  day  was,  and  seeing  his  men  as  well  dismayed  at 


POPLICOLA. 


^S8 

the  sight  of  their  own  dead,  as  rejoiced  at  the  loss  of  the 
enemy ; so  apparently  equal  in  the  number  was  the  slaughter 
on  e'ther  side.  Each  party,  however,  felt  surer  of  defeat 
from  the  actual  sight  of  their  own  dead,  than  they  could  feel 
of  victory  from  conjecture  about  those  of  their  adversaries. 
The  night  being  come  (and  such  as  one  may  presume  must 
follow  such  a battle),  and  the  armies  laid  to  rest,  they  say 
that  the  grove  shook,  and  uttered  a voice,  saying  that  the 
Tuscans  had  lost  one  man  more  than  the  Romans  ; clearly  a 
divine  announcement;  and  the  Romans  at  once  received  it 
with  shouts  and  expressions  of  joy ; whilst  the  Tuscans, 
through  fear  and  amazement,  deserted  their  tents,  and  were 
for  the  most  part  dispersed.  The  Romans,  falling  upon  the 
remainder,  amounting  to  nearly  five  thousand,  took  them  pris- 
oners, and  plundered  the  camp ; when  they  numbered  the 
dead,  they  found  on  the  Tuscans^  side  eleven  thousand  and 
three  hundred,  exceeding  their  own  loss  but  by  one  man. 
This  fight  happened  upon  the  last  day  of  February,  and  Va- 
lerius triumphed  in  honor  of  it,  being  the  first  consul  that 
drove  in  with  a four-horse  chariot ; which  sight  both  appear- 
ed magnificent,  and  was  received  with  an  admiration  free 
from  envy  or  offence  (as  some  suggest)  on  the  part  of  the 
spectators ; it  would  not  otherwise  have  been  continued  with 
so  much  eagerness  and  emulation  through  all  the  after  ages. 
The  people  applauded  likewise  the  honors  he  did  to  his  col- 
league, in  adding  to  his  obsequies  a funeral  oration : which 
was  so  much  liked  by  the  Romans,  and  found  so  good  a re- 
ception, that  it  became  customary  for  the  best  men  to  cele- 
brate the  funerals  of  great  citizens  with  speeches  in  their 
commendation  ; and  their  antiquity  in  Rome  is  affirmed  to 
be  greater  than  in  Greece,  unless,  with  the  orator  Anaximenes, 
we  make  Solon  the  first  author. 

Yet  some  part  of  Valerius’s  behavior  did  give  offence 
and  disgust  to  the  people,  because  Brutus,  whom  they 
esteemed  the  father  of  their  liberty,  had  not  presumed  to  rule 
without  a colleague,  but  united  one  and  then  another  to  him 
in  his  commission;  while  Valerius,  they  said,  centreing  all 
authority  in  himself,  seemed  not  in  any  sense  a successor  to 
Brutus  in  the  consulship,  but  to  Tarquin  in  the  tyranny  ; he 
might  make  verbal  harangues  to  Brutus’s  memory,  yet,  when 
he  was  attended  with  all  the  rods  and  axes,  proceeding  down 
from  a house  than  which  the  king’s  house  that  he  had  demol- 
ished had  not  been  statelier,  those  actions  showed  him  an 
imitator  of  Tarquin.  For,  indeed,  his  dwelling-house  on  the 


POPLICOLA. 


^59 


Velia  was  somewhat  imposing  in  appearance,  hanging  over 
the  forum,  and  overlooking  all  transactions  there  ; the  access 
to  it  was  hard,  and  to  see  him  far  off  coming  down,  a stately 
and  royal  spectacle.  But  Valerius  showed  how  well  it  were 
for  men  in  power  and  gi^at  offices  to  have  ears  that  give 
admittance  to  truth  before  flattery ; for  upon  his  friends  tell- 
ing him  that  he  displeased  the  people,  he  contended  not, 
neither  resented  it,  but  while  it  was  still  night,  sending  for  a 
number  of  work-people,  pulled  down  his  house  and  levelled 
it  with  the  ground ; so  that  in  the  morning  the  people,  seeing 
and  flocking  together,  expressed  their  wonder  and  their  re- 
spect for  his  magnanimity,  and  their  sorrow,  as  though  it  had 
been  a human  being,  for  the  large  and  beautiful  house  which 
was  thus  lost  to  them  by  an  unfounded  jealousy,  while  its 
owner,  their  consul,  without  a roof  of  his  own,  had  to  beg  a 
lodging  with  his  friends.  For  his  friends  received  him,  till  a 
place  the  people  gave  him  was  furnished  with  a house,  though 
less  stately  than  his  own,  where  now  stands  the  temple,  as  it 
is  called,  of  Vica  Pota. 

He  resolved  to  render  the  government,  as  well  as  himself, 
instead  of  terrible,  familiar  and  pleasant  to  the  people,  and 
parted  the  axes  from  the  rods,  and  always,  upon  his  entrance 
into  the  assembly,  lowered  these  also  to  the  people,  to  show, 
in  the  strongest  way,  the  republican  foundation  of  the  gov- 
ernment ; and  this  the  consuls  observe  to  this  day.  But  the 
humility  of  the  man  was  but  a means,  not,  as  they  thought,  of 
lessening  himself,  but  merely  to  abate  their  envy  by  this 
moderation  ; for  whatever  he  detracted  from  his  authority  he 
added  to  his  real  power,  the  people  still  submitting  with  sat- 
isfaction, which  they  expressed  by  calling  him  Poplicola,  or 
people-lover,  which  name  had  the  preeminence  of  the  rest, 
and,  therefore,  in  the  sequel  of  his  narrative  we  shall  use  no 
other. 

He  gave  free  leave  to  any  to  sue  for  the  counsulship  ; 
but  before  the  admittance  of  a colleague,  mistrusting  the 
j chances,  lest  emulation  or  ignorance  should  cross  his  designs, 
by  his  sole  authority  enacted  his  best  and  most  important 
measures.  First,  he  supplied  the  vacancies  of  the  senators, 
whom  either  Tarquin  long  before  had  put  to  death,  or  the 
war  lately  cut  off  ; those  that  he  enrolled,  they  write,  amounted 
to  a hundred  and  sixty-four  ; afterwards  he  made  several  laws 
which  added  much  to  the  people^s  liberty,  in  particular  one 
granting  offenders  the  liberty  of  appealing  to  the  people  from 
the  judgment  of  the  consuls  j a second,  that  made  it  death  to 


i6o 


POPLICOLA. 


usurp  any  magistracy  without  the  people’s  consent ; a third, 
for  the  relief  of  poor  citizens,  which,  taking  off  their  taxes, 
encouraged  their  labors ; another,  against  disobedience  to  the 
consuls,  which  was  no  less  popular  than  the  rest,  and  rather 
to  the  benefit  of  the  commonalty  than  to  the  advantage  of 
the  nobles,  for  it  imposed  upon  disobedience  the  penalty  of 
ten  oxen  and  two  sheep  ; the  price  of  a sheep  being  ten 
obols;  of  an  ox,  an  hundred.  For  the  use  of  money  was  then 
infrequent  amongst  the  Romans,  but  their  wealth  in  cattle 
great ; even  now  pieces  of  property  are  called  peculia^  from 
pecus,  cattle  \ and  they  had  stamped  upon  their  most  ancient 
money  an  ox,  a sheep,  or  a hog ; and  surnamed  their  sons 
Suillii,  Bubulci,  Caprarii,  and  Porcii,  from  caprcz^  goats,  and 
porci^  hogs. 

Amidst  this  mildness  and  moderation,  for  one  excessive 
fault  he  instituted  one  excessive  punishment ; for  he  made  it 
lawful  without  trial  to  take  away  any  man’s  life  that  aspired 
to  a tyranny,  and  acquitted  the  slayer,  if  he  produced  evi- 
dence of  the  crime  ; for  though  it  was  not  probable  for  a man, 
whose  designs  were  so  great,  to  escape  all  notice ; yet  be- 
cause it  was  possible  he  might,  although  observed,  by  force 
anticipate  judgment,  which  the  usurpation  itself  would  then 
preclude,  he  gave  a license  to  any  to  anticipate  the  usurper. 
He  was  honored  likewise  for  the  law  touching  the  treasury  j 
for  because  it  was  necessary  for  the  citizens  to  contribute  out 
of  their  estates  to  the  maintenance  of  wars,  and  he  was  unwil- 
ling himself  to  be  concerned  in  the  care  of  it,  or  to  permit  his 
friends,  or  indeed  to  let  the  public  money  pass  into  any 
private  house,  he  allotted  the  temple  of  Saturn  for  the  treas- 
ury, in  which  to  this  day  they  deposit  the  tribute-money,  and 
granted  the  people  the  liberty  of  choosing  two  young  men  as 
quaestors,  or  treasurers.  The  first  were  Publius  Veturius  and 
Marcus  Minucius  ; and  a large  sum  was  collected,  for  they 
assessed  one  hundred  and  thirty  thousand,  excusing  orphans 
and  widows  from  the  payment.  After  these  dispositions,  he 
admitted  Lucretius,  the  father  of  Lucretia,  as  his  colleague, 
and  gave  him  the  precedence  in  the  government,  by  resigning 
the  fasces  to  him,  as  due  to  his  years,  which  privilege  of 
seniority  continued  to  our  time.  But  within  a few  days 
Lucretius  died,  and  in  a new  election  Marcus  Horatius  suc- 
ceeded in  that  honor,  and  continued  consul  for  the  remainder 
©f  the  year. 

Now,  whilst  Tarquin  was  making  preparations  in  Tuscany 
for  a second  war  against  the  Romans,  it  is  said  a great 


POPLICOLA. 


i6t 

portent  occurred.  When  Tarquin  was  king,  and  had  all  but 
completed  the  buildings  of  the  Capitol,  designing,  whether 
from  oracular  advice  or  his  own  pleasure,  to  erect  an  earthen 
chariot  upon  the  top,  he  intrusted  the  workmanship  to  Tus- 
cans of  the  city  Veii,  but  soon  after  lost  his  kingdom.  The 
work  thus  modelled,  the  Tuscans  set  in  a furnace,  but  the 
clay  showed  not  those  passive  qualities  which  usually  attend 
its  nature,  to  subside  and  be  condensed  upon  the  evaporation 
of  the  moisture,  but  rose  and  swelled  out  to  that  bulk,  that, 
when  solid  and  firm,  notwithstanding  the  removal  of  the  roof 
and  opening  the  walls  of  the  furnace,  it  could  not  be  taken 
out  without  much  difficulty.  The  soothsayers  looked  upon 
this  as  a divine  prognostic  of  success  and  power  to  those  that 
should  possess  it  ; and  the  Tuscans  resolved  not  to  deliver  it 
to  the  Romans,  who  demanded  it,  but  answered  that  it  rather 
belonged  to  Tarquin  than  to  those  who  had  sent  him  into 
exile.  A few  days  after,  they  had  a horse-race  there,  with  the 
usual  shows  and  solemnities,  and  as  the  charioteer  with  his 
garland  on  his  head,  was  quietly  driving  the  victorious  chariot 
out  of  the  ring,  the  horses,  upon  no  apparent  occasion,  taking 
fright,  either  by  divine  instigation  or  by  accident,  hurried 
away  their  driver  at  full  speed  to  Rome ; neither  did  his 
holding  them  in  prevail,  nor  his  voice,  but  he  was  forced 
along  with  violence  till,  coming  to  the  Capitol,  he  was  thrown 
out  by  the  gate  called  Ratumena.  This  occurrence  raised 
wonder  and  fear  in  the  Veientines,  who  now  permitted  the 
delivery  of  the  chariot. 

The  building  of  the  temple  of  the  Capitoline  Jupiter  had 
been  vowed  by  Tarquin,  the  son  of  Demaratus,  when  warring 
with  the  Sabines  ; Tarquinius  Superbus,  his  son  or  grandson, 
built,  but  could  not  dedicate  it,  because  he  lost  his  kingdom 
before  it  was  quite  finished.  And  now  that  it  was  completed 
with  all  its  ornaments,  Poplicola  was  ambitious  to  dedicate 
it ; but  the  nobility  envied  him  that  honor,  as,  indeed,  also, 
in  some  degree,  those  his  prudence  in  making  laws  and 
conduct  in  wars  entitled  him  to.  Grudging  him,  at  any  rate, 
the  addition  of  this,  they  urged  Horatius  to  sue  for  the  ded- 
ication, and,  whilst  Poplicola  was  engaged  in  some  military 
expedition,  voted  it  to  Horatius,  and  conducted  him  to  the 
Capitol,  as  though,  were  Poplicola  present,  they  could  not 
have  carried  it.  Yet,  some  write,  Poplicola  was  by  lot  des- 
tined against  his  will  to  the  expedition,  the  other  to  the  ded- 
ication ; and  what  happened  in  the  performance  seems  to 
intimate  some  ground  for  this  conjecture  ; for,  upon  the  Ides 


i62 


POPLICOLA. 


of  September,  which  happens  about  the  full  moon  of  the 
month  Metagitnion,  the  people  having  assembled  at  the 
Capitol  and  silence  being  enjoined,  Horatius,  after  the  per 
formance  of  other  ceremonies,  holding  the  doors,  according 
to  custom,  was  proceeding  to  pronounce  the  words  of  ded- 
ication, when  Marcus,  the  brother  of  Poplicola,  who  had  got 
a place  on  purpose  beforehand  near  the  door,  observing  his 
opportunity,  cried,  “ O consul,  thy  son  lies  dead  in  the 
camp  ; ’’  which  made  a great  impression  upon  all  others  who 
heard  it,  yet  in  nowise  discomposed  Horatius,  who  le  turned 
merely  the  reply,  ‘‘  Cast  the  dead  out  whither  you  please  ^ I 
am  not  a mourner  ; ” and  so  completed  the  dedication.  The 
news  was  not  true,  but  Marcus  thought  the  lie  might  avert  him 
from  his  performance  ; but  it  argues  him  a man  of  wonderful 
self-possession,  whether  he  at  once  saw  through  the  cheat,  or, 
believing  it  as  true,  showed  no  discomposure. 

The  same  fortune  attended  the  dedication  of  the  second 
temple ; the  first,  as  has  been  said,  was  built  by  Tarquin,  and 
dedicated  by  Horatius  ; it  was  burnt  down  in  the  civil  wars. 
The  second,  Sylla  built,  and,  dying  before  the  dedication, 
left  that  honor  to  Catulus ; and  when  this  was  demolished  in 
the  Vitellian  sedition,  Vespasian,  with  the  same  success  that 
attended  him  in  other  things,  began  a third  and  lived  to  see  it 
finished,  but  did  not  live  to  see  it  again  destroyed,  as  it 
presently  was  ; but  was  as  fortunate  in  dying  before  its  de- 
struction, as  Sylla  was  the  reverse  in  dying  before  the  ded- 
ication of  his.  For  immediately  after  Vespasian^s  death  it 
was  consumed  by  fire.  The  fourth,  which  now  exists,  was 
both  built  and  dedicated  by  Domitia^n.  It  is  said  Tarquin 
expended  forty  thousand  pounds  of  silver  in  the  very  founda- 
tions ; but  the  whole  wealth  of  the  richest  private  man  in 
Rome  would  not  discharge  the  cost  of  the  gilding  of  this 
temple  in  our  days,  it  amounting  to  above  twelve  thousand 
talents  ; the  pillars  were  cut  out  of  Pentelican  marble,  of  a 
length  most  happily  proportioned  to  their  thickness ; these 
we  saw  at  Athens ; but  when  they  were  cut  anew  at  Rome 
and  polished,  they  did  not  gain  so  much  in  embellishment,  as 
they  lost  in  symmetry,  being  rendered  too  taper  and  slender. 
Should  any  one  who  wonders  at  the  costliness  of  the  Capitol 
visit  any  one  gallery  in  Domitian’s  palace,  or  hall,  or  bath,  oi 
the  apartmeTits  of  his  concubines,  Epicharmus’s  remark  upon 
the  prodigal,  that 

^Tis  not  beneficence,  but,  truth  to  say, 

A mere  disease  U giving  things  away, 


POPLICOLA. 


163 

would  be  in  his  mouth  in  application  to  Domitian.  It  is 
neither  piety,  he  would  say,  nor  magnificence,  but,  indeed,  a 
mere  disease  of  building,  and  a desire,  like  Midas,  of  convert- 
ing every  thing  into  gold  or  stone.  And  thus  much  for  this 
matter. 

Tarquin,  after  the  great  battle  wherein  he  lost  his  son  in 
combat  with  Brutus,  fled  to  Clusium,  and  sought  aid  from 
Lars  Porsenna,  then  one  of  those  most  powerful  princes  of 
Italy,  and  a man  of  worth  and  generosity  ; who  assured  him 
of  assistance,  immediately  sending  his  commands  to  Rome 
that  they  should  receive  Tarquin  as  their  king,  and,  upon  the 
Romans’  refusal,  proclaimed  war,  and,  having  signified  the 
time  and  place  where  he  intended  his  attack,  approached  with 
a great  army.  Poplicola  was,  in  his  absence,  chosen  consul 
a second  time,  and  Titus  Lucretius  his  colleague,  and,  re- 
turning to  Rome,  to  show  a spirit  yet  loftier  than  Por- 
senna’s,  built  the  city  Sigliura  when  Porsenna  was  already 
in  the  neighborhood  ; and  walling  it  at  great  expense,  there 
placed  a colony  of  seven  hundred  men,  as  being  little  con- 
cerned at  the  war.  Nevertheless,  Porsenna,  making  a sharp 
assault,  obliged  the  defendants  to  retire  to  Rome,  who  had 
almost  in  their  entrance  admitted  the  enemy  into  the  city  with 
them  ; only  Poplicola  by  sallying  out  at  the  gate  prevented 
them,  and,  joining  battle  by  Tiber  side,  opposed  the  enemy, 
that  pressed  on  with  their  multitude,  but  at  last,  sinking  under 
desperate  wounds,  was  carried  out  of  the  fight.  The  same 
fortune  fell  upon  Lucretius,  so  that  the  Romans,  being  dis- 
mayed, retreated  into  the  city  for  their  security,  and  Rome 
was  in  great  hazard  of  being  taken,  the  enemy  forcing  their 
way  on  to  the  wooden  bridge,  where  Horatius  Codes,  seconded 
by  two  of  the  first  men  in  Rome,  Herminius  and  Lartius, 
made  head  against  them.  Horatius  obtained  this  name  from 
the  loss  of  one  of  his  eyes  in  the  wars,  or,  as  others  write, 
from  the  depressure  of  his  nose,  which,  leaving  nothing  in 
the  middle  to  separate  them,  made  both  eyes  appear  but  as 
one  ; and  hence,  intending  to  say  Cyclops,  by  a mispronunci- 
ation they  called  him  Codes.  This  Codes  kept  the  bridge, 
and  held  back  the  enemy,  till  his  own  party  broke  it  down 
behind,  and  then  with  his  armor  dropped  into  the  river,  and 
swam  to  the  hither  side,  with  a wound  in  his  hip  from  a Tus- 
can spear.  Poplicola,  admiring  his  courage,  proposed  at  once 
that  the  Romans  should  every  one  make  him  a present  of  a 
day’s  provisions,  and  afterwards  give  him  as  much  land  as  he 
could  plow  round  in  one  day,  and  besides  erected  a brazen 


164 


POPLICOLA. 


Statute  to  his  honor  in  the  temple  of  Vulcan,  as  a requital  fot 
the  lameness  caused  by  his  wound. 

But  Porsenna  laying  close  siege  to  the  city,  and  a famine 
raging  amongst  the  Romans,  also  a new  army  ot  the  Tuscans 
making  incursions  into  the  country,  Poplicola,  a third  time 
chosen  consul,  designed  to  make,  without  sallying  out,  his  de- 
fence against  Porsenna,  but,  privately  stealing  forth  against 
the  new  army  of  the  Tuscans,  put  them  to  flight  and  slew  five 
thousand.  The  story  of  Mucius  is  variously  given  ; we,  like 
others,  must  follow  the  commonly  received  statement.  He 
was  a man  endowed  with  every  virtue,  but  most  eminent  in 
war  j and,  resolving  to  kill  Porsenna,  attired  himself  in  the 
Tuscan  habit,  and  using  the  Tuscan  language,  came  to  the 
camp,  and  approaching  the  seat  where  the  king  sat  amongst 
his  nobles,  but  not  certainly  knowing  the  king,  and  fearful  to 
inquire,  drew  out  his  sword,  and  stabbed  one  who  he  thought 
had  most  the  appearance  of  king.  Mucius  was  taken  in  the 
act,  and  whilst  he  was  under  examination,  a pan  of  fire  was 
brought  to  the  king,  who  intended  to  sacrifice ; Mucius  thrust 
his  right  hand  into  the  flame,  and  whilst  it  burnt  stood  look- 
ing at  Porsenna  with  a steadfast  and  undaunted  countenance  : 
Porsenna  at  last  in  admiration  dismissed  him,  and  returned 
his  sword,  reaching  it  from  his  seat ; Mucius  received  it  in  his 
left  hand,  which  occasioned  the  name  of  Scaevola,  left-handed, 
and  said,  I have  overcome  the  terrors  of  Porsenna,  yet  am 
vanquished  by  his  generosity,  and  gratitude  obliges  me  to 
disclose  what  no  punishment  could  extort  and  assured  him 
then,  that  three  hundred  Romans,  all  of  the  same  resolution, 
lurked  about  his  camp,  only  waiting  for  an  opportunity  ; he, 
by  lot  appointed  to  the  enterprise,  was  not  sorry  that  he  had 
miscarried  in  it,  because  so  brave  and  good  a man  deserved 
rather  to  be  a friend  to  the  Romans  than  an  enemy.  To  this 
Porsenna  gave  credit,  and  thereupon  expressed  an  inclination 
to  a truce,  not,  I presume,  so  much  out  of  fear  of  the  three 
hundred  Romans,  as  in  admiration  of  the  Roman  courage. 
A.11  other  writers  call  this  man  Mucius  Scaevola,  yet  Athen- 
dorus,  son  of  Sandon,  in  a book  addressed  to  Octavia,  Caesar’s 
sister,  avers  he  was  also  called  Postumus. 

Poplicola,  not  so  much  esteeming  Porsenna’s  enmity  dan- 
gerous to  Roman  as  his  friendship  and  alliance  serviceable, 
was  induced  to  refer  the  controversy  with  Tarquin  to  his  arbi- 
tration, and  several  times  undertook  to  prove  Tarquin  the 
worst  of  men,  and  justly  deprived  of  his  kingdom.  But  Tar- 
quin proudly  replied  he  would  admit  no  judge,  much  less 


POPLICOLA. 


1^5 

Porsenna,  that  had  fallen  away  from  his  engagements  ; and 
Porsenna,  resenting  this  answer,  and  mistrusting  the  equity 
of  his  cause,  moved  also  by  the  solicitations  of  his  son  Aruns, 
who  was  earnest  for  the  Roman  interest,  made  a peace  on 
these  conditions,  that  they  should  resign  the  land  they  had 
taken  frorri  the  Tuscans,  and  restore  all  prisoners  and  receive 
back  their  deserters.  To  confirm  the  peace,  the  Romans 
gave  as  hostages  ten  sons  of  patrician  parents,  and  as  many 
daughters,  amongst  whom  was  Valeria,  the  daughter  of  Pop- 
licola. 

Upon  these  assurances,  Porsenna  ceased  from  all  acts  of 
hostility,  and  the  young  girls  went  down  to  the  river  to  bathe, 
at  that  part  where  the  winding  of  the  bank  formed  a bay  and 
made  the  waters  stiller  and  quieter  ; and,  seeing  no  guard,  nor 
any  one  coming  or  going  over,  they  were  encouraged  to  swim 
over,  notwithstanding  the  depth  and  violence  of  the  stream. 
Some  affirm  that  one  of  them,  by  name  Cloelia,  passing  over 
on  horseback,  persuaded  the  rest  to  swim  after  ; but,  upon  their 
safe  arrival,  presenting  themselves  to  Poplicola,  he  neither 
praised  nor  approved  their  return,  but  was  concerned  lest  he 
should  appear  less  faithful  than  Porsenna,  and  this  boldness 
in  the  maidens  should  argue  treachery  in  the  Romans ; so 
that,  apprehending  them,  he  sent  them  back  to  Porsenna. 
But  Tarquin’s  men,  having  intelligence  of  this,  laid  a strong 
ambuscade  on  the  other  side  for  those  that  conducted  them  ; 
and  while  these  were  skirmishing  together,  Valeria,  the 
daughter  of  Poplicola,  rushed  through  the  enemy,  and  fled, 
and  with  the  assistance  of  three  of  her  attendants  made  good 
her  escape,  whilst  the  rest  were  dangerously  hedged  in  by 
the  soldiers  ; but  Aruns,  Porsenna’s  son,  upon  tidings  of  it, 
hastened  to  their  rescue,  and,  putting  the  enemy  to  flight, 
delivered  the  Romans.  When  Porsenna  saw  the  maidens 
returned,  demanding  who  was  the  author  and  adviser  of  the 
act,  and  understanding  Cloelia  to  be  the  person,  he  looked 
on  her  with  a cheerful  and  benignant  countenance,  and,  com- 
manding one  of  his  horses  to  be  brought,  sumptuously 
adorned,  made  her  a present  of  it.  This  is  produced  as  evi- 
dence b^  those  who  affirm  that  only  Clcelia  passed  the  river 
on  horseback ; those  who  deny  it  call  it  only  the  honor 
the  Tuscan  did  to  her  courage ; a figure,  however,  on 
horseback,  stands  in  the  Via  Sacra,  as  you  go  to  the  Palatium^ 
which  some  say  is  the  statue  of  Cloelia,  others  of  Valeria. 
t‘orsenna,  thus  reconciled  to  the  Romans,  gave  them  a fresh 
instance  of  his  generosity,  and  commanded  his  soldiers  to 


i66 


POPLICOLA. 


quit  the  camp  merely  with  their  arms,  leaving  their  tents,  full 
of  corn  and  other  stores,  as  a gift  to  the  Romans.  Hence, 
even  down  to  our  time,  when  there  is  a public  sale  of  goods, 
they  cry  Porsenna’s  first,  by  way  of  perpetual  commemoration 
of  his  kindness.  There  stood,  also,  by  the  senate-house,  a 
brazen  statue  of  him,  of  plain  and  antique  workmanship. 

Afterwards,  the  Sabines,  making  incursions  upon  the  Ro- 
mans, Marcus  Valerius,  brother  to  Poplicola,  was  made  consul, 
and  with  him  Postumius  Tubertus.  Marcus,  through  the 
management  of  affairs  by  the  conduct  and  direct  assistance 
of  Poplicola,  obtained  two  great  victories,  in  the  latter  of 
which  he  slew  thirteen  thousand  Sabines  without  the  loss  of 
one  Roman,  and  was  honored,  as  an  accession  to  his  triumph, 
with  an  house  built  in  the  Palatium  at  the  public  charge  ; and 
whereas  the  doors  of  other  houses  opened  inward  into  the 
house,  they  made  this  to  open  outward  into  the  street,  to  in- 
timate their  perpetual  public  recognition  of  his  merit  by  thus 
continually  making  way  for  him.  The  same  fashion  in  their 
doors  the  Greeks,  they  say,  had  of  old  universally,  which  ap- 
pears from  their  comedies,  where  those  that  are  going  out 
make  a noise  at  the  door  within,  to  give  notice  to  those  that 
pass  by  or  stand  near  the  door,  that  the  opening  the  door 
into  the  street  might  occasion  no  surprisal. 

The  year  after,  Poplicola  was  made  consul  the  fourth 
time,  when  a confederacy  of  the  Sabines  and  Latins  threat- 
ened a war  ; a superstitious  fear  also  overran  the  city  on  the 
occasion  of  general  miscarriages  of  their  women,  no  single 
birth  coming  to  its  due  time.  Poplicola,  upon  consultation 
of  the  Sibylline  books,  sacrificing  to  Pluto,  and  renewing  cer- 
tain games  commanded  by  Apollo,  restored  the  city  to  more 
cheerful  assurance  in  the  gods,  and  then  prepared  against  the 
menaces  of  men.  There  were  appearances  of  great  prepara- 
tion, and  of  a formidable  confederacy.  Amongst  the  Sabines 
there  was  one  Appius  Clausus,  a man  of  a great  wealth  and 
strength  of  body,  but  most  eminent  for  his  high  character 
and  for  his  eloquence ; yet,  as  is  usually  the  fate  of  great 
men,  he  could  not  escape  the  envy  of  others,  which  was  much 
occasioned  by  his  dissuading  the  war,  and  seeming  to  pro- 
mote the  Roman  interest,  with  a view,  it  is  thought,  to‘obtain- 
ing  absolute  power  in  his  own  country  for  himself.  Knowing 
how  welcome  these  reports  would  be  to  the  multitude,  and 
how  offensive  to  the  army  and  the  abettors  of  the  war,  he  was 
afraid  to  stand  a trial,  but,  having  a considerable  body  of 
friends  and  allies  to  assist  him,  raised  a tumult  amongst  the 


POPLICOLA. 


167 


Sabines,  which  delayed  the  war.  Neither  was  Poplicola 
wanting,  not  only  to  understand  the  grounds  of  the  sedition, 
but  to  promote  and  increase  it,  and  he  despatched  emissaries 
with  instructions  to  Clausus,  that  Poplicola  was  assured  of 
his  goooness  and  justice,  and  thought  it  indeed  unworthy  in 
any  man,  however  injured,  to  seek  revenge  upon  his  fellow- 
citizens  ; yet  if  he  pleased,  for  his  owm  security,  40  leave  his 
enemies  ana  come  to  Rome,  he  should  be  received,  both  in 
public  and  private,  with  the  honor  his  merit  deserved,  anci 
their  own  glory  required.  Appius  seriously  weighing  the  mat- 
ter, came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  the  best  resource  which 
necessity  left  him,  and  advising  wdth  his  friends,  and  they  in- 
viting again  others  in  the  same  manner,  he  came  to  Rome, 
bringing  five  thousand  families,  with  their  wives  and  children  , 
people  of  the  quieretesf  and  steadiest  temper  of  all  the 
Sabines.  Poplicola,  informed  of  their  approach,  received  them 
with  all  the  kind  offices  ot  a friend,  and  admitted  them  at 
once  to  the  franchise,  allotting  to  every  one  two  acres  of  land 
by  the  river  Anio,  but  to  Clausus  twenty-five  acres,  and  gave 
him  a place  in  the  senate ; a commencement  of  political 
power  which  he  used  so  wisely,  tnat  he  rose  to  the  highest 
reputation,  was  very  influential,  and  left  the  Glaudian  house 
behind  him,  inferior  to  none  in  Rome. 

The  departure  of  these  men  rendered  things  quiet  amongst 
the  Sabines  ; yet  the  chief  of  the  community  would  not  suffer 
them  to  settle  into  peace,  but  resented  that  Clausus  now,  by 
turning  deserter,  should  disappoint  that  revenge  upon  the  Ro- 
mans, which,  while  at  home,  he  had  unsuccessfully  opposed. 
Coming  with  a great  army,  they  sat  down  before  Fidenae, 
and  placed  an  ambuscade  of  tw'o  thousand  men  near  Rome, 
in  wooded  and  hollow  spots,  with  a design  that  some  few 
horsemen,  as  soon  as  it  was  day,  should  go  out  and  ravage 
the  country,  commanding  them  upon  their  approach  to  the 
town  so  to  retreat  as  to  draw  the  enemy  into  the  ambush. 
Poplicola,  however,  soon  advertised  of  these  designs  by  de- 
serters, disposed  his  forces  to  their  respective  charges.  Pos- 
tumius  Balbus,  his  son-in-law,  going  out  with  three  thousand 
men  in  the  evening,  was  ordered  to  take  the  hills,  under  which 
the  ambush  lay,  there  to  observe  their  motions  ; his  colleague, 
Lucretius,  attended  with  a body  of  the  lightest  and  boldest 
men,  was  appointed  to  meet  the  Sabine  horse  ; whilst  he. 
with  the  rest  of  the  army,  encompassed  the  enemy.  And  a 
thick  mist  rising  accidentally,  Postumius,  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, with  shouts  from  the  hills,  assailed  the  ambuscadci 


i68 


COMPARISON  OF  POPLICOLA  WITH  SOLON. 


Lucretius  charged  the  light-horse,  and  Poplicola  besieged  the 
camp;  so  that  on  all  sides  defeat  and  ruin  came  upon  the 
Sabines,  and  without  any  resistance  the  Romans  killed  them 
in  their  flight,  their  very  hopes  leading  them  to  their  death, 
for  each  division,  presuming  that  the  other  was  safe,  gave  up 
all  thought  of  fighting  or  keeping  their  ground;  and  these 
quitting  the  camp  to  retire  to  the  ambuscade,  and  the  ambus- 
cade flying  to  the  camp,  fugitives  thus  met  fugitives,  and 
found  those  from  whom  they  expected  succor  as  much  in  need 
of  succor  from  themselves.  The  nearness,  however,  of  the 
city  Fidenae  was  the  preservation  of  the  Sabines,  especially 
those  that  fled  from  the  camp ; those  that  could  not  gain 
the  city  either  perished  in  the  field,  or  were  taken  prisoners. 
This  victory,  the  Romans,  though  usually  ascribing  such  suc- 
cess to  some  god,  attributed  to  the  conduct  of  one  captain; 
and  it  was  observed  to  be  heard  amongst  the  soldiers,  that 
Poplicola  had  delivered  their  enemies  lame  and  blind,  and 
only  not  in  chains,  to  be  despatched  by  their  swords.  From 
the  spoil  and  prisoners  great  wealth  accrued  to  the  people. 

Poplicola,  having  completed  his  triumph,  and  bequeathed 
the  city  to  the  care  of  the  succeeding  consuls,  died;  thus 
closing  a life  which,  so  far  as  human  life  may  be,  had  been 
full  of  all  that  is  good  and  honorable.  The  people,  as  though 
they  had  not  duly  rewarded  his  deserts  when  alive,  but  still 
were  in  his  debt,  decreed  him  a public  interment,  every  one 
contributing  his  quadrans  towards  the  charge  ; the  women, 
besides,  by  private  consent,  mourned  a whole  year,  a signal 
mark  of  honor  to  his  memory.  He  was  buried,  by  the  peo- 
ple’s desire,  within  the  city,  in  the  part  called  Velia,  where 
his  posterity  had  likewise  privilege  of  burial  ; now,  however, 
none  of  the  family  are  interred  there,  but  the  body  is  carried 
thither  and  set  down,  and  some  one  places  a burning  torch 
under  it  and  immediately  takes  it  away,  as  an  attestation  of 
the  deceased’s  privilege,  and  his  receding  from  his  honor ; 
•fter  which  the  body  is  removed. 


COMPARISON  OF  POPLICOLA  WITH 
SOLON. 

There  is  something  singular  in  the  present  parallel 
which  has  not  occurred  in  any  other  of  the  lives ; that  the 
one  should  be  the  imitator  of  the  other,  and  the  other  his  best 


COMPARISON  OF  POPLICOLA  WITH  SOLON.  169 

evidence.  Upon  the  survey  of  Solon’s  sentence  to  Croesus  in 
favor  of  Tellus’s  happiness,  it  seems  more  applicable  to  Pop- 
licola  ; for  Tellus,  whose  virtuous  life  and  dying  well  had 
gained  him  the  name  of  the  happiest  man,  yet  was  never  cele- 
brated in  Solon’s  poems  for  a good  man,  nor  have  his  children 
or  any  magistracy  of  his  deserved  a memorial ; but  Poplicola  s 
life  was  the  most  eminent  amongst  the  Romans,  as  well  for 
the  greatness  of  his  virtue  as  his  power,  and  also  since  his  death 
many  amongst  the  distinguished  families,  even  in  our  days, 
the  Poplicolae,  Messalae,  and  Valerii,  after  a lapse  of  six  hun- 
dred years,  acknowledge  him  as  the  fountain  of  their  honor. 
Besides,  Tellus,  though  keeping  his  post  and  fighting  like  a 
valiant  soldier,  was  yet  slain  by  his  enemies  ; but  Poplicola, 
the  better  fortune,  slew  his,  and  saw  his  country  victorious 
under  his  command.  And  his  honors  and  triumphs  brought 
him,  which  was  Solon’s  ambition,  to  a happy  end ; the 
ejaculation  which,  in  his  verses  against  Mimnermus  about 
the  continuance  of  man’s  life,  he  himself  made, 

Mourned  let  me  die  ; and  may  I,  when  life  ends, 

Occasion  sighs  and  sorrows  to  my  friends, 

is  evidence  to  Poplicola’s  happiness  ; his  death  did  not  only 
draw  tears  from  his  friends  and  acquaintance,  but  was  the 
object  of  universal  regret  and  sorrow  through  the  whole  city,  the 
women  deplored  his  loss  as  that  of  a son,  brother,  or  common 
father.  “ Wealth  I would  have,”  said  Solon,  “ but  wealth  by 
wrong  procure  would  not,”  because  punishment  would  follow. 
ButPoplicola’s  riches  were  not  only  justly  his,  but  he  spent  them 
nobly  in  doing  good  to  the  distressed.  So  that  if  Solon  was 
reputed  the  wisest  man,  we  must  allow  Poplicola  to  be  the  happi- 
est ; for  what  Solon  wished  for  as  the  greatest  and  most  perfect 
good,  this  Poplicola  had,  and  used  and  enjoyed  to  his  death. 

And  as  Solon  may  thus  be  said  to  have  contributed  to 
Poplicola’s  glory,  so  did  also  Poplicola  to  his,  by  his  choice 
of  him  as  his  model  in  the  formation  of  republican  institu- 
tions ; in  reducing,  for  example,  the  excessive  powers  and  as- 
sumption of  the  consulship.  Several  of  his  laws,  indeed,  he 
actually  transferred  to  Rome,  as  his  empowering  the  people 
to  elect  their  officers,  and  allowing  offenders  the  liberty  of 
appealing  to  the  people,  as  Solon  did  to  the  jurors.  He  did 
not,  indeed,  create  a new  senate,  as  Solon  did,  but  augment- 
ed the  old  to  almost  double  its  number.  The  appointment  of 
treasurers  again,  the  quaestors,  has  a like  origin  ; with  the 
intent  that  the  chief  magistrate  should  not,  if  of  good  charao 


170  COMPARISON  OF  POPLICOLA  WITH  SOLON, 

ter,  be  withdrawn  from  greater  matters  ; or,  if  bad,  have  the 
greater  temptation  to  injustice,  by  holding  both  the  govern- 
ment and  treasury  in  his  hands.  The  aversion  to  tyranny 
was  stronger  in  Poplicola  ; any  one  who  attempted  usurpation 
could,  by  Solon’s  law,  only  be  punished  upon  conviction  ; but 
Poplicola  made  it  death  before  a trial.  And  though  Solor. 
justly  gloried,  that,  when  arbitrary  power  was  absolutely  of- 
fered to  him  by  circumstances,  and  when  his  countrymen 
would  have  willingly  seen  him  accept  it,  he  yet  declined  it ; 
still  Poplicola  merited  no  less,  who,  receiving  a despotic  com- 
mand, converted  it  to  a popular  office,  and  did  not  employ 
the  whole  legal  power  which  he  held.  We  must  allow,  in- 
deed. that  Solon  was  before  Poplicola  in  observing  that 

A people  always  minds  its  rulers  best 

When  it  is  neither  humored  nor  oppressed. 

The  remission  of  debts  was  peculiar  to  Solon  ; it  was  his 
great  means  for  confirming  the  citizens’  liberty  ; for  a mere 
law  to  give  all  men  equal  rights  is  but  useless,  if  the  poor 
must  sacrifice  those  rights  to  their  debts,  and,  in  the  very 
seats  and  sanctuaries  of  equality,  the  courts  of  justice,  the 
offices  of  state,  and  the  public  discussions,  be  more  than  any- 
where at  the  beck  and  bidding  of  the  rich.  A yet  more  ex- 
traordinary success  was,  that,  although  usually  civil  violence 
is  caused  by  any  remission  of  debts,  upon  this  one  occasion 
this  dangerous  but  powerful  remedy  actually  put  an  end  to 
civil  violence  already  existing,  Solon’s  own  private  worth  and 
reputation  overbalancing  all  the  ordinary  ill-repute  and  dis- 
credit of  the  change.  The  beginning  of  his  government  was 
more  glorious,  for  he  was  entirely  original,  and  followed  no 
man’s  example,  and,  without  the  aid  of  any  ally,  achieved  his 
most  important  measures  by  his  own  conduct ; yet  the  close 
of  Poplicola’s  life  was  more  happy  and  desirable,  for  Solon 
saw  the  dissolution  of  his  own  commonwealth,  Poplicola’a 
maintained  the  state  in  good  order  down  to  the  civil  wars. 
Solon,  leaving  his  laws,  as  soon  as  he  had  made  them,  en- 
graven in  wood,  but  destitute  of  a defender,  departed  from 
Athens;  whilst  Poplicola,  remaining,  both  in  and  out  of 
office,  labored  to  establish  the  government,  Solon,  though 
he  actually  knew  of  Pisistratus’s  ambition,  yet  was  not  able 
to  suppress  it,  but  had  to  yield  to  usurpation  in  its  infancy  ; 
whereas  Poplicola  utterly  subverted  and  dissolved  a potent 
monarchy,  strongly  settled  by  long  continuance ; uniting  thus 
to  virtues  equal  to  those,  and  purposes  identical  with  those  ol 


THEMISTOCLES.  171 

Solon,  the  good  fortune  and  the  power  that  alone  could  make 
them  effective. 

In  military  exploits,  Daimachus  of  Plataea  will  not  even 
allow  Solon  the  conduct  of  the  war  against  the  Megarians,  as 
was  before  intimated  ; but  Poplico^la  was  victorious  in  the 
most  important  conflicts,  both  as  a private  soldier  and  com- 
mander. In  domestic  politics,  also,  Solon,  in  play,  as  it  were, 
and  by  counterfeiting  madness,  induced  the  enterprise  against 
Salaniis;  whereas  Poplicola,  in  the  very  beginning,  exposed 
himself  to  the  greatest  risk,  took  arms  against  Tarquin,  de- 
tected the  conspiracy,  and,  being  principally  concerned  both 
in  preventing  the  escape  of  and  afterwards  punishing  the  trai- 
tors, not  only  expelled  the  tyrants  from  the  city,  but  extirpated 
their  very  hopes.  And  as,  in  cases  calling  for  contest  and 
resistance  and  manful  opposition,  he  behaved  with  courage 
and  resolution,  so,  in  instances  where  peaceable  language, 
persuasion,  and  concession  were  requisite,  he  was  yet  more 
to  be  commended ; and  succeeded  in  gaining  happily  to  rec- 
onciliation and  friendship,  Porsenna,  a terrible  and  invincible 
enemy.  Some  may,  perhaps,  object,  that  Solon  recovered 
Salamis,  which  they  had  lost,  for  the  Athenians ; whereas 
Poplicola  receded  from  part  of  what  the  Romans  were  at  that 
time  possessed  of ; but  judgment  is  to  be  made  of  actions  ac- 
cording to  the  times  in  which  they  were  performed.  The 
conduct  of  a wise  politician  is  ever  suited  to  the  present  pos- 
ture of  affairs  ; often  by  foregoing  a part  he  saves  the  whole, 
and  by  yielding  in  a small  matter  secures  a greater  ; and  so 
Poplicola,  by  restoring  wdiat  the  Romans  had  lately  usurped, 
saved  their  undoubted  patrimony,  and  procured,  moreover, 
the  stores  of  the  enemy  for  those  who  were  only  too  thankful 
to  secure  their  city.  Permitting  the  decision  of  the  contro- 
versy to  his  adversary,  he  not  only  got  the  victory,  but  like- 
wise what  he  himself  would  willingly  have  given  to  purchase 
the  victory,  Porsenna  putting  an  end  to  the  war,  and  leaving 
them  all  the  provision  of  his  camp,  from  the  sense  of  the  vir- 
tue and  gallant  disposition  of  the  Romans  which  their  consul 
had  impressed  upon  him. 


THEMISTOCLES. 

The  birth  of  Themistocles  was  somewhat  too  obscure  to 
do  him  honor.  His  father,  Neocles,  was  not  of  the  distin* 


172 


THEMISTOCLES. 


guished  people  of  Athens,  but  of  the  township  of  Phrearrhi, 
and  of  the  tribe  Leontis ; and  by  his  mother^s  side,  as  it  is  re 
ported,  he  was  base-born. 

I am  not  of  the  noble  Grecian  race, 

I’m  poor  Abrotonon,  and  born  in  Thrace  * 

Let  the  Greek  women  scorn  me,  if  they  please, 

I was  the  mother  of  Themistocles. 

Yet  Phanias  writes  that  the  mother  of  Themistocles  was  not 
of  Thrace,  but  of  Caria,  and  that  her  name  was  not  Abroto- 
non, but  Euterpe  ; and  Neanthes  adds  farther  that  she  was  of 
Halicarnassus  in  Caria.  And,  as  illegitimate  children,  includ- 
ing those  that  were  of  the  half-blood  or  had  but  one  parent 
an  Athenian,  had  to  attend  at  the  Cynosarges  (a  wrestling- 
place  outside  the  gates,  dedicated  to  Hercules,  who  was  also 
of  half-blood  amongst  the  gods,  having  had  a mortal  woman 
for  his  mother),  Themistocles  persuaded  several  of  the  young 
men  of  high  birth  to  accompany  him  to  anoint  and  exercise 
themselves  together  at  Cynosarges  ; an  ingenious  device  for 
destroying  the  distinction  between  the  noble  and  the  base- 
born,  and  between  those  of  the  whole  and  those  of  the  half- 
blood  of  Athens.  However,  it  is  certain  that  he  was  related 
to  the  house  of  the  Lycomedae  ; for  Simonides  records,  that 
he  rebuilt  the  chapel  of  Phlya,  belonging  to  that  family,  and 
beautified  it  with  pictures  and  other  ornaments,  after  it  had 
been  burnt  by  the  Persians. 

It  h confessed  by  all  that  from  his  youth  he  was  of  a vehe- 
ment and  impetuous  nature,  of  a quick  apprehension,  and  a 
strong  and  aspiring  bent  for  action  and  great  affairs.  The 
holidays  and  intervals  in  his  studies  he  did  not  spend  in  play 
or  idleness,  as  other  children,  but  would  be  always  inventing 
or  arranging  some  oration  or  declamation  to  himself,  the  sub- 
ject of  which  was  generally  the  excusing  or  accusing  his  com- 
panions, so  that  his  master  would  often  say  to  him,  “ You,  my 
boy,  will  be  nothing  small,  but  great  one  way  or  other,  for  good 
or  else  for  bad.’’  He  received  reluctantly  and  carelessly  m- 
^ structions  given  him  to  improve  his  manners  and  behavior,  or 
to  teach  him  any  pleasing  or  graceful  accomplishment,  but 
whatever  was  said  to  improve  him  in  sagacity,  or  in  manage- 
ment of  affairs,  he  would  give  attention  to,  beyond  one  of  his 
years,  from  confidence  in  his  natural  capacities  for  such 
things.  And  thus  afterwards,  when  in  company  where  people 
engaged  themselves  in  what  are  commonly  thought  the  liberal 
and  elegant  amusements,  he  was  obliged  to  defend  himself 
against  the  observations  of  those  who  considered  themselves 


THEMISTOCLES. 


173 


higlily  accomplished,  by  the  somewhat  arrogant  ictort,  that 
he  certainly  could  not  make  use  of  any  stringed  instrument, 
could  only,  were  a small  and  obscure  city  put  into  his  hands, 
make  it  great  and  glorious.  Notwithstanding  this,  Stesiin- 
brotus  says  that  Themistocles  was  a hearer  of  Anaxagoras, 
and  that  he  studied  natural  philosophy  under  Melissus,  con 
trary  to  chronology  ; Melissus  commanded  the  Samians  in 
the  siege  by  Pericles,  who  was  much  Themistocles’s  junior ; 
and  with  Pericles,  also,  Anaxagoras  was  intimate.  They, 
therefore,  might  rather  be  credited,  who  report,  that  Themis- 
tocles was  an  admirer  of  Mnesiphilus  the  Phrearrhian,  who 
was  neither  rhetorician  nor  natural  philosopher,  but  a pro- 
fessor of  that  which  was  then  called  wisdom,  consisting  in  a 
sort  of  political  shrewdness  and  practical  sagacity,  which  had 
begun  and  continued,  almost  like  a sect  of  philosophy,  from 
Solon  : but  those  who  came  afterwards,  and  mixed  it  with 
pleadings  and  legal  artifices,  and  transformed  the  practical 
part  of  it  into  a mere  art  of  speaking  and  an  exercise  of 
words,  were  generally  called  sophists.  Themistocles  resorted 
to  Mnesiphilus  when  he  had  already  embarked  in  politics. 

In  the  first  essays  of  his  youth  he  was  not  regular  nor 
happily  ballanced  ; he  allowed  himself  to  follow  mere  natural 
character,  which,  without  the  control  of  reason  and  instruc- 
tion, is  apt  to  hurry,  upon  either  side,  into  sudden  and  violent 
courses,  and  very  often  to  break  away  and  determine  upon 
the  worst ; as  he  afterwards  owned  himself,  saying,  that  the 
wildest  colts  make  the  best  horses,  if  they  only  get  properly 
trained  and  broken  in.  But  those  who  upon  this  fasten  stories 
of  their  own  invention,  as  of  his  being  disowned  by  his  father, 
and  that  his  mother  died  for  grief  of  her  son’s  ill  fame,  cer- 
tainly calumniate  him  ; and  there  are  others  who  relate,  on 
the  contrary,  how  that  to  deter  him  from  public  business,  and 
to  let  him  see  how  the  vulgar  behave  themselves  towards  their 
leaders  when  they  have  at  last  no  farther  use  of  them,  his 
father  showed  him  the  old  galleys  as  they  lay  forsaken  and 
cast  about  upon  the  sea-shore. 

Yet  it  is  evident  that  his  mind  was  early  imbued  with  the 
keenest  interest  in  public  affairs,  and  the  most  passionate  am- 
bition for  distinction.  Eager  from  the  first  to  obtain  the 
highest  place,  he  unhesitatingly  accepted  the  hatred  of  the 
most  powerful  and  infiuential  leaders  in  the  city,  but  more 
especially  of  Aristides,  the  son  of  Lysimachus,  who  always 
opposed  him.  And  yet  all  this  great  enmity  between  them 
arose,  it  appears,  from  a very  boyish  occasion,  both  being 


*74 


THEMISTOCLES. 


attached  to  the  beautiful  Stesilaus  of  Ceos,  as  Aiiston  the  phi- 
losopher tells  us  ; ever  after  which  they  took  opposite  sides, 
and  were  rivals  in  politics.  Not  but  that  the  incompatibility 
of  their  lives  and  manners  may  seem  to  have  increased  the 
difference,  for  Aristides  was  of  a mild  nature,  and  of  a nobler 
sort  of  character,  and,  in  public  matters,  acting  always  with  a 
view,  not  to  glory  or  popularity,  but  to  the  best  interest  of  the 
state  consistently  with  safety  and  honesty,  he  was  often 
forced  to  oppose  Themistocles,  and  interfere  against  the  in* 
crease  of  his  influence,  seeing  him  stirring  up  the  people  to  all 
kinds  of  enterprises,  and  introducing  various  innovations. 
For  it  is  said  that  Themistocles  was  so  transported  with  the 
thoughts  of  glory,  and  so  inflamed  with  the  passion  for  great 
actions,  that,  though  he  was  still  young  when  the  battle  of 
Marathon  was  fought  against  the  Persians,  upon  the  skilful 
conduct  of  the  general,  Miltiades,  being  everywhere  talked 
about,  he  was  observed  to  be  thoughtful,  and  reserved,  alone 
by  himself ; he  passed  the  nights  without  sleep,  and  avoided 
all  his  usual  places  of  recreation,  and  to  those  who  wondered 
at  the  change,  and  inquired  the  reason  of  it,  he  gave  the  an- 
swer, that  “ the  trophy  of  Miltiades  would  not  let  him  sleep.” 
And  when  others  were  of  opinion  that  the  battle  of  Marathon 
would  be  an  end  to  the  war,  Themistocles  thought  that  it  was 
but  the  beginning  of  far  greater  conflicts,  and  for  these,  to  the 
benefit  of  all  Greece,  he  kept  himself  in  continual  readiness, 
and  his  city  also  in  proper  training,  foreseeing  from  far  before 
what  would  happen. 

And,  first  of  all,  the  Athenians  being  accustomed  to  divide 
amongst  themselves  the  revenue  proceeding  from  the  silver 
mines  at  Laurium,  he  was  the  only  man  that  durst  propose  to 
the  people  that  this  distribution  should  cease,  and  that  with 
the  money  ships  should  be  built  to  make  war  against  the 
^ginetans,  who  were  the  most  flourishing  people  in  all  Greece, 
and  by  the  number  of  their  ships  held  the  sovereignty  of  the 
sea ; and  Themistocles  thus  was  more  easily  able  to  persuade 
them,  avoiding  all  mention  of  danger  from  Darius  or  the  Per- 
sians, who  were  at  a great  distance,  and  their  coming  very  un- 
certain, and  at  that  time  not  much  to  be  feared  ; but,  by  a 
seasonable  employment  of  the  emulation  and  anger  felt  by 
the  Athenians  against  the  ^ginetans,  he  induced  them  to 
preparation.  So  that  with  this  money  an  huuvlred  ships  were 
built,  with  which  they  afterwards  fought  against  Xerxes.  And, 
henceforward,  little  by  little,  turning  and  drawing  the  city 
down  towards  the  sea,  in  the  belief  that,  whereas  by  land  they 


THEMISTOCLES. 


^75 


were  not  a fit  match  for  their  next  neighbors,  with  their  ships 
they  might  be  able  to  repel  the  Persians  and  command  Greece, 
thus,  as  Plato  says,  from  steady  soldiers  he  turned  them  into 
mariners  and  seamen  tossed  about  the  sea,  and  gave  occasion 
for  the  reproach  against  him,  that  he  took  away  from  the 
Athenians  the  spear  and  the  shield,  and  bound  them  to  the 
bench  and  the  oar.  These  measures  he  carried  in  the  assem- 
bly, against  the  opposition,  as  Stesimbrotus  relates,  of  Miltia- 
des ; and  whether  or  no  he  hereby  injured  the  purity  and  true 
balance  of  government,  may  be  a question  for  philosophers, 
but  that  the  deliverance  of  Greece  came  at  that  time  from  the 
sea,  and  that  these  galleys  restored  Athens  again  after  it  was 
destroyed,  were  others  wanting,  Xerxes  aimself  would  be  suffi- 
cient evidence,  who,  though  his  land-forces  were  still  entire, 
after  his  defeat  at  sea,  fled  away,  and  thought  himself  no 
longer  able  to  encounter  the  Greeks  ; and,  as  it  seems  to  me, 
left  Mardonius  behind  him,  not  out  of  any  hopes  he  could 
have  to  bring  them  into  subjection,  but  to  hinder  them  from 
pursuing  him. 

Themistocles  is  said  to  have  been  eager  in  the  acquisition 
of  riches,  according  to  some,  that  he  might  be  the  more 
liberal ; for  loving  to  sacrifice  often,  and  to  be  splendid  in  his 
entertainment  of  strangers,  he  required  a plentiful  revenue  ; 
yet  he  is  accused  by  others  of  having  been  parsimonious  and 
sordid  to  that  degree  that  he  would  sell  provisions  which 
were  sent  to  him  as  a present.  He  desired  Diphilides,  who 
was  a breeder  of  horses,  to  give  him  a colt,  and  when  he  re- 
fused it,  threatened  that  in  a short  time  he  would  turn  his 
house  into  a wooden  horse,  intimating  that  he  would  stir  up 
dispute  and  litigation  between  him  and  some  of  his  relations. 

He  went  beyond  all  men  in  the  passion  for  distinction. 
When  he  was  still  young  and  unknown  in  the  world,  he  en- 
treated Episcles  of  Hermione,  who  had  a good  hand  at  the 
lute  and  was  much  sought  after  by  the  Athenians,  to  come 
and  practise  at  home  with  him,  being  ambitious  of  having 
people  inquire  after  his  house  and  frequent  his  company. 
When  he  came  to  the  Olympic  games,  and  was  so  splendid  in 
his  equipage  and  entertainments,  in  his  rich  tents,  and  furni- 
ture, that  he  strove  to  outdo  Cimon,  he  displeased  the  Greeks, 
who  thought  that  such  magnificence  might  be  allowed  in  one 
who  was  a young  man  and  of  a great  family  but  was  a great 
piece  of  insolence  in  one  as  yet  undistinguished,  and  without 
title  or  means  for  making  any  such  display.  Irr  a dramatic 
contest,  the  play  he  paid  for  won  the  prize,  which  was  then  a 


176 


THEMISTOCLKS. 


matter  that  excited  much  emulation  ; he  put  up  a tablet  in  rec- 
ord of  it,  with  the  inscription.  “ Themistocles  of  Phrearrhi 
Vv^as  at  the  charge  of  it ; Phrynichus  made  it ; Adimantus  was 
archon.’’  He  was  well  liked  by  the  common  people,  would 
salute  every  particular  citizen  by  his  own  name,  and  always 
show  himself  a just  judge  in  questions  of  business  between 
private  men  ; he  said  to  Simonides,  the  poet  of  Ceos,  who 
desired  something  of  him,  when  he  was  commander  of  the 
army,  that  was  not  reasonable,  ‘‘  Simonides,  you  would  be  no 
good  poet  if  you  wrote  false  measure,  nor  should  I be  a good 
magistrate  if  forfkvor  I made  false  law.”.  And  at  another  time, 
laughing  at  Simonides,  he  said,  that  he  was  a man  of  little 
judgment  to  speak  against  the  Corinthians,  who  were  inhabi- 
tants of  a great  city,  and  to  have  his  own  picture  drawn  so 
often,  having  so  ill-looking  a face. 

Gradually  growing  to  be  great,  and  winning  the  favor  of 
the  people,  he  at  last  gained  the  day  with  his  faction  over 
that  of  Aristides,  and  procured  his  banishment  by  ostracism. 
When  the  king  of  Persia  was  now  advancing  against  Greece, 
and  the  Athenians  were  in  consultation  who  should  be  gen- 
eral, and  many  withdrew  themselves  of  their  own  accord, 
being  terrified  with  the  greatness  of  the  danger,  there  was 
one  Epicydes,  a popular  speaker,  son  to  Euphemides,  a man 
of  an  eloquent  tongue,  but  of  a faint  heart,  and  a slave  to 
riches,  who  was  desirous  of  the  command,  and  was  looked 
upon  to  be  in  a fair  way  to  carry  it  by  the  number  of  votes  ; 
but  Themistocles,  fearing  that,  if  the  command  should  fall 
into  such  hands,  all  would  be  lost,  bought  off  Epicydes  and 
his  pretensions,  it  is  said,  for  a sum  of  money. 

When  the  king  of  Persia  sent  messengers  into  Greece, 
with  an  interpreter,  to  demand  earth  and  water,  as  an  ac- 
knowledgment of  subjection,  Themistocles,  by  the  consent  of 
the  people,  seized  upon  the  interpreter,  and  put  him  to  death, 
for  presuming  to  publish  the  barbarian  orders  and  decrees  in 
the  Greek  language  ; this  is  one  of  the  actions  he  is  com- 
mended for,  as  also  for  what  he  did  to  Arthmius  of  Zelea, 
who  brought  gold  from  the  king  of  Persia  to  corrupt  the 
Greeks,  and  was,  by  an  order  from  Themistocles,  degraded 
and  disfranchised,  he  and  his  children  and  his  posterity  : but 
that  which  most  of  all  redounded  to  his  credit  was,  that  he 
put  an  end  to  all  the  civil  wars  of  Greece,  composed  their 
differences,  and  persuaded  them  to  lay  aside  all  enmity  dur- 
ing the  war  with  the  Persians  ; and  in  this  great  work,  Chileus 

Arcadian  was,  it  is  said,  of  great  assistance  to  him. 


THEMISTOCLES. 


*77 


Having  taken  upon  himself  the  command  of  the  Athenian 
forces,  he  immediately  endeavored  to  persuade  the  citizens 
to  leave  the  city,  and  to  embark  upon  their  galleys,  and  meet 
with  the  Persians  at  a great  distance  from  Greece  ; but  many 
being  against  this,  he  led  a large  force,  together  with  the 
Lacedasmonians,  into  Tempe,  that  in  this  pass  they  might 
maintain  the  safety  of  Thessaly,  which  had  not  as  yet  declared 
for  the  king  ; but  when  they  returned  without  performing  any 
thing,  and  it  was  known  that  not  only  the  Thessalians,  but  all 
as  far  as  Boeotia,  was  going  over  to  Xerxes,  then  the  Athenians 
more  willingly  hearkened  to  the  advice  of  Themistocles  to 
fight  by  sea,  and  sent  him  with  a fleet  to  guard  the  straits  of 
Artemisium. 

When  the  contingents  met  here,  the  Greeks  would  have 
the  Lacedaemonians  to  command,  and  Eurybiades  to  be  their 
admiral ; but  the  Athenians,  who  surpassed  all  the  rest 
together  in  number  of  vessels,  would  not  submit  to  come 
after  any  other,  till  Themistocles,  perceiving  the  danger  of 
this  contest,  yielded  his  own  command  to  Eurybiades,  and 
got  the  Athenians  to  submit,  extenuating  the  loss  by  persuad- 
ing them,  that  if  in  this  war  they  behaved  themselves  like  men, 
he  would  answer  for  it  after  that,  that  the  Greeks,  of  their  own 
will,  would  submit  to  their  command.  And  by  this  modera- 
tion of  his,  it  is  evident  that  he  was  the  chief  mean^  of  the 
deliverance  of  Greece,  and  gained  the  Athenians  the  glory  of 
alike  surpassing  their  enemies  in  valor,  and  their  confederates 
in  wisdom. 

As  soon  as  the  Persian  armada  arrived  at  Aphetse,  Eury- 
biades was  astonished  to  see  such  a vast  number  of  vessels 
before  hirn,  and  being  informed  that  two  hundred  more  were 
sailing  round  jDehind  the  island  of  Sciathus,  he  immediately 
determined  to  retire  farther  into  Greece,  and  to  sail  back  into 
some  part  of  Peloponnesus,  where  their  land  army  and  then 
fleet  might  join,  for  he  looked  upon  the  Persian  forces  to  be 
altogether  unassailable  by  sea.  But  the  Euboeans,  fearing 
that  the  Greeks  would  forsake  them,  and  leave  them  to  the 
mercy  of  the  enemy,  sent  Pelagon  to  confer  privately  with 
Themistocles,  taking  with  him  a good  sum  of  money,  which,  as 
Herodotus  reports,  he  accepted  and  gave  to  Eurybiades.  In 
this  alfair  none  of  his  own  countrymen  opposed  him  so  much  as 
Archi teles,  captain  of  the  sacred  galley,  who,  having  no  money 
to  supply  his  seamen,  was  eager  to  go  home  ; but  Themistocles 
so  incensed  the  Athenians  against  him,  that  they  set  upon  him 
and  left  him  not  so  much  as  his  supper,  at  which  Architeles 

12 


*78 


THEMISTOCLES. 


was  much  surprised,  and  took  it  very  ill ; but  Themistocles  im* 
mediately  sent  him  in  a chest  a service  of  provisions,  and  at  the 
bottom  of  it  a talent  of  silver,  desiring  him  to  sup  to-night,  and 
to-morrow  provided  for  his  seamen  ; if  not,  he  would  report  it 
among  the  Athenians  that  he  had  received  money  from  the 
enemy.  So  Phanias  the  Lesbian  tells  the  story. 

Though  the  fights  between  the  Greeks  and  Persians  in 
the  straits  of  Euboea  were  not  so  important  as  to  make  any 
final  decision  of  the  war,  yet  the  experience  which  the  Greeks 
obtained  in  them  was  of  great  advantage  ; for  thus,  by  actual 
trial  and  in  real  danger,  they  found  out  that  neither  number 
of  ships,  nor  riches  and  ornaments,  nor  boasting  shouts,  nor 
barbarous  songs  of  victory,  were  any  way  terrible  to  men  that 
knew  how  to  fight,  and  were  resolved  to  come  hand  to  hand 
with  their  enemies ; these  things  they  were  to  despise,  and  to 
come  up  close  and  grapple  with  their  foes.  This,  Pindar 
appears  to  have  seen,  and  says  justly  enough  of  the  fight  at 
Artemisium,  that 

There  the  sons  of  Athens  set 

The  stone  that  freedom  stands  on  yet. 

For  the  first  step  towards  victory  undoubtedly  is  to  gain 
courage.  Artemisium  is  in  Euboea,  beyond  the  city  of  Histiaea, 
a sea-beach  open  to  the  north  ; most  nearly  opposite  to  it 
stands  Olizon,  in  the  country  which  formerly  was  under 
Philoctetes  ; there  is  a small  temple  there,  dedicated  to  Diana, 
surnamed  of  the  Dawn,  and  trees  about  it,  around  which  again 
stand  pillars  of  white  marble ; and  if  you  rub  them  with 
your  hand,  they  send  forth  both  the  smell  and  color  of  saffron. 
On  one  of  these  pillars  these  verses  are  engraved,— 

With  numerous  tribes  from  Asians  region  brought 
The  sons  of  Athens  on  these  waters  fought ; 

Erecting,  after  they  had  quelled  the  Mede, 

To  Artemis  this  record  of  the  deed. 

There  is  a place  still  to  be  seen  upon  this  shore,  where,  m the 
middle  of  a great  heap  of  sand,  they  take  out  from  the  bot- 
tom a dark  powder  like  ashes,  or  something  that  has  passed 
the  fire ; and  here,  it  is  supposed,  the  shipwrecks  and  bodies 
of  the  dead  were  burnt. 

But  when  news  came  from  Thermopylae  to  Artemisium, 
informing  them  that  king  Leonidas  was  slain,  and  that  Xerxes 
had  made  himself  master  of  all  the  passages  by  land,  they 
returned  back  to  the  interior  of  Greece,  the  Athenians  having 


THEMISTOCLES.  1 79 

the  command  of  the  rear,  the  place  of  honor  and  danger,  and 
much  elated  by  what  had  been  done. 

As  Themistocles  sailed  along  the  coasts,  he  took  notice 
of  the  harbors  and  fit  places  for  the  enemy’s  ships  to  come  to 
land  at,  and  engraved  large  letters  in  such  stones  as  he  found 
there  by  chance,  as  also  in  others  which  he  set  up  on  purpose 
near  to  the  landing-places,  or  where  they  were  to  water ; iu 
which  inscriptions  he  called  upon  the  lonians  to  forsake  the 
Medes,  if  it  were  possible,  and  come  over  to  the  Greeks,  who 
were  their  proper  founders  and  fathers,  and  were  now  hazard- 
ing all  for  their  liberties  ; but,  if  this  could  not  be  done,  at 
any  rate  to  impede  and  disturb  the  Persians  in  all  engage- 
ments. He  hoped  that  these  writings  would  prevail  with  the 
lonians  to  revolt,  or  raise  some  trouble  by  making  their  fidel- 
ity doubtful  to  the  Persians. 

Now,  though  Xerxes  had  already  passed  through  Doris 
and  invaded  the  country  of  Phocis,  and  was  burning  and  de- 
stroying the  cities  of  the  Phocians,  yet  the  Greeks  sent  them 
no  relief ; and,  though  the  Athenians  earnestly  desired  them 
to  meet  the  Persians  in  Boeotia,  before  they  could  come  into 
Attica,  as  they  themselves  had  come  forward  by  sea  at  Ar- 
temisium,  they  gave  no  ear  to  their  request,  being  wholly  in- 
tent upon  Peloponnesus,  and  resolved  to  gather  all  their 
forces  together  within  the  Isthmus,  and  to  build  a wall  from 
sea  to  sea  in  that  narrow  neck  of  land  ; so  that  the  Athe- 
nians were  enraged  to  see  themselves  betrayed,  and  at  the 
same  time  afflicted  and  dejected  at  their  own  destitution.  For 
to  fight  alone  against  such  a numerous  army  was  to  no  pur- 
pose, and  the  only  expedient  now  left  them  was  to  leave  their 
city  and  cling  to  their  ships ; which  the  people  were  very  un- 
willing to  submit  to,  imagining  that  it  would  signify  little  now 
to  gain  a victory,  and  not  understanding  how  there  could  be 
deliverance  any  longer  after  they  had  once  forsaken  the  tem- 
ples of  their  gods  and  exposed  the  tombs  and  monuments  of 
their  ancestors  to  the  fury  of  their  enemies. 

Themistocles,  being  at  a loss,  and  not  able  to  draw  the 
people  over  to  his  opinion  by  any  human  reason,  set  his 
machines  to  work,  as  in  a theatre,  and  employed  prodigies 
and  oracles.  The  serpent  of  Minerva,  kept  in  the  inner  part 
of  her  temple,  disappeared ; the  priests  gave  it  out  to  the 
people  that  the  offerings  which  were  set  for  it  were  found  un- 
touched, and  declared,  by  the  suggestion  of  Themistocles, 
that  the  goddess  had  left  the  city,  and  taken  her  flight  before 
them  towards  the  sea.  And  he  often  urged  them  with  the 


l8o  THEMISTOCLES. 

oracle  which  bade  them  trust  to  walls  of  wood,  showing  them 
that  walls  of  wood  could  signify  nothing  else  but  ships  ; and 
that  the  island  of  Salamis  was  termed  in  it,  not  miserable  or 
unhappy,  but  had  the  epithet  of  divine,  for  that  it  should  one 
day  be  associated  with  a great  good  fortune  of  the  Greeks. 
At  length  his  opinion  prevailed,  and  he  obtained  a decree 
that  the  city  should  be  committed  to  the  protection  of  Mi- 
nerva, queen  of  Athens  ; ” that  they  who  were  of  age  tc 
bear  arms  should  embark,  and  that  each  should  see  to  send- 
ing away  his  children,  women,  and  slaves  where  he  could. 
This  decree  being  confirmed,  most  of  the  Athenians  removed 
their  parents,  wives,  and  children  to  Troezen,  where  they  were 
received  with  eager  good-will  by  the  Troezenians,  who  passed 
a vote  that  they  should  be  maintained  at  the  public  charge, 
by  a daily  payment  of  two  obols  to  every  one,  and  leave  be 
given  to  the  children  to  gather  fruit  where  they  pleased,  and 
schoolmasters  paid  to  instruct  them.  This  vote  was  pro- 
posed by  Nicagoras. 

There  was  no  public  treasure  at  that  time  in  Athens ; but 
the  council  of  Areopagus,  as  Aristotle  says,  distributed  to 
every  one  that  served,  eight  drachmas,  which  was  a great 
help  to  the  manning  of  the  fleet ; but  Clidemus  ascribes  this 
also  to  the  art  of  Themistocles.  When  the  Athenians  were 
on  their  way  down  to  the  haven  of  Piraeus,  the  shield  with  the 
head  of  Medusa  was  missing  ; and  he,  under  the  pretext  of 
searching  for  it,  ransacked  alb  places,  and  found  among  their 
goods  considerable  sums  of  money  concealed,  which  he  ap- 
plied to  the  public  use  ; and  with  this  the  soldiers  and  sea- 
men were  well  provided  for  their  voyage. 

When  the  whole  city  of  Athens  were  going  on  board,  it 
afforded  a spectacle  worthy  of  pity  alike  and  admiration,  to 
see  them  thus  send  away  their  fathers  and  children  before 
them,  and,  unmoved  with  their  cries  and  tears,  passed  over 
Vnto  the  island.  But  that  which  stirred  compassion  most  of 
all  was,  that  many  old  men,  by  reason  of  their  great  age,  were 
left  behind  ; and  even  the  tame  domestic  animals  could  not 
be  seen  without  some  pity,  running  about  the  town  and  howl- 
ing, as  desirous  to  be  carried  along  with  their  masters  that 
had  kept  tliem  ; among  which  it  is  reported  that  Xanthippus, 
the  father  of  Pericles,  had  a dog  that  would  not  endure'  to 
stay  behind,  but  leaped  into  the  sea,  and  swam  along  by  the 
galley's  side  till  he  came  to  the  island  of  Salamis,  where  he 
fainted  away  and  died,  and  that  spot  in  the  island,  which  ii 
still  called  the  Dog’s  Grave,  is  said  to  be  his. 


THEMISTOCLES. 


iSi 

Among  ihe  great  actions  of  Themistocles  at  this  crisis^ 
the  recall  of  Aristides  was  not  the  least,  for,  before  the  war, 
he  had  been  ostracized  by  the  party  which  Themistocles 
headed,  and  was  in  banishment ; but  now,  perceiving  that  the 
people  regretted  his  absence,  and  were  fearful  that  he  might 
go  over  to  the  Persians  to  revenge  himself,  and  thereby  ruin 
the  affairs  of  Greece,  Themistocles  proposed  a decree  that 
those  who  were  banished  for  a time  might  return  again,  to 
give  assistance  by  word  and  deed  to  the  cause  of  Greece  with 
the  rest  of  their  fellow-citizens. 

Eurybiades,  by  reason  of  the  greatness  of  Sparta,  was  ad- 
miral of  the  Greek  fleet,  but  yet  was  faint-hearted  in  time  of 
danger,  and  willing  to  weigh  anchor  and  set  sail  for  the  isth- 
mus of  Corinth,  near  which  the  land  army  lay  encamped  ; 
which  Themistocles  resisted  ; and  this  was  the  occasion  of 
the  well-known  words,  when  Eurybiades,  to  check  his  impa- 
tience, told  him  that  at  the  Olympic  games  they  that  start  up 
before  the  rest  are  lashed  ; ‘‘  And  they,’’  replied  Themisto- 
cles, “ that  are  left  behind  are  not  crowned.”  Again,  Eury- 
biades lifting  up  his  staff  as  if  he  were  going  to  strike 
Themistocles  said,  ‘‘  Strike  if  you  will,  but  hear  ; ” Eurybiades, 
wondering  much  at  his  moderation,  desired  him  to  speak, 
and  Themistocles  now  brought  him  to  a better  understanding. 
And  when  one  who  stood  by  him  told  him  that  it  did  not  be- 
come those  who  had  neither  city  nor  house  to  lose,  to  per- 
suade others  to  relinquish  their  habitations  and  forsake  their 
countries,  Themistocles  gave  this  reply  : “ We  have  indeed 
left  our  houses  and  our  walls,  base  fellow,  not  thinking  it  fit 
to  become  slaves  for  the  sake  of  things  that  have  no  life  nor 
soul ; and  yet  our  city  is  the  greatest  of  all  Greece,  consist- 
ing of  two  hundred  galleys,  which  are  here  to  defend  you,  if 
you  please ; but  if  you  run  away  and  betray  us,  as  you  did 
once  before,  the  Greeks  shall  soon  hear  news  of  the  Athe- 
nians possessing  as  fair  a country,  and  as  large  and  free  a 
city,  as  that  they  have  lost.  These  expressions  of  Themisto- 
cles made  Eurybiades  suspect  that  if  he  retreated  the  Athe- 
nians would  fall  off  from  him.  When  one  of  Eretria  began  to 
oppose  him,  he  said,  “ Have  you  any  thing  to  say  of  war,  that 
are  like  an  ink-fish  you  have  a sword,  but  no  heart.”  Some 
say  that  while  Themistocles  was  thus  speaking  things  upon  the 
deck,  an  owl  was  seen  flying  to  the  right  hand  of  the  fleet, 
which  came  and  sate  upon  the  top  of  the  mast ; and  this  hap- 
py omen  so  far  disposed  the  Greeks  to  follow  his  advice,  that 
they  presently  prepared  to  fight.  Yet,  when  the  enemy’s  fleet 


i82 


THEMISTOCLES. 


was  arrived  at  the  haven  of  Phalerum,  upon  the  coast  of  Attica, 
and  with  the  number  of  their  ships  concealed  all  the  shore, 
and  when  they  saw  the  king  himself  in  person  come  down 
with  his  land  army  to  the  sea-side,  with  all  his  forces  united, 
then  the  good  counsel  of  Themistocles  was  soon  forgotten, 
and  the  Peloponnesians  cast  their  eyes  again  towards  the 
isthmus,  and  took  it  very  ill  if  any  one  spoke  against  their 
returning  home  ; and,  resolving  to  depart  that  night,  the 
pilots  had  order  what  course  to  steer. 

Themistocles,  in  great  distress  that  the  Greeks  should  re- 
tire, and  lose  the  advantage  of  the  narrow  seas  and  strait  pas- 
sage, and  slip  home  every  one  to  his  own  city,  considered  with 
himself,  and  contrived  that  stratagem  that  was  carried  out  by 
Sicinnus.  This  Sicinnus  was  a Persian  captive,  but  a great 
lover  of  Themistocles,  and  the  attendant  of  his  children. 
Upon  this  occasion,  he  sent  him  privately  to  Xerxes,  com- 
manding him  to  tell  the  king,  that  Themistocles,  the  admiral 
of  the  Athenians,  having  espoused  his  interest,  wished  to  be 
the  first  to  inform  him  that  the  Greeks  were  ready  to  make 
their  escape,  and  that  he  counselled  him  to  hinder  their 
flight,  to  set  upon  them  while  they  were  in  this  confusion  and 
at  a distance  from  their  land  army,  and  hereby  destroy  all 
their  forces  by  sea.  Xerxes  was  very  joyful  at  this  message, 
and  received  it  as  from  one  who  wished  him  all  that  was 
good,  and  immediately  issued  instructions  to  the  commanders 
of  his  ships,  that  they  should  instantly  set  out  with  two  hun- 
dred galleys  to  encompass  all  the  islands,  and  enclose  all  the 
straits  and  passages,  that  none  of  the  Greeks  might  escape, 
and  that  they  should  afterwards  follow  with  the  rest  of  their 
fleet  at  leisure.  This  being  done,  Aristides,  the  son  of  Lysi- 
machus,  was  the  first  man  that  perceived  it,  and  went  to  the 
tent  of  Themistocles,  not  out  of  any  friendship,  for  he  had 
been  formerly  banished  by  his  means,  as  has  been  related, 
but  to  inform  him  how  they  were  encompassed  by  their  ene- 
mies. Themistocles,  knowing  the  generosity  of  Arisfides, 
and  much  struck  by  his  visit  at  that  time,  imparted  to  him 
all  that  he  had  transacted  by  Sicinnus,  and  entreated  him, 
that,  as  he  would  be  more  readily  believed  among  the  Greeks, 
he  would  make  use  of  his  credit  to  help  to  induce  them  to 
stay  and  fight  their  enemies  in  the  narrow  seas.  Aristides 
applauded  Themistocles,  and  went  to  the  other  commanders 
and  captains  of  the  galleys,  and  encouraged  them  to  engage  ; 
yet  they  did  not  perfectly  assent  to  him,  till  a galley  of  Tenos, 
which  deserted  from  the  Persians,  of  which  Pansetius  was 


THEMISTOCLES. 


183 


commander,  came  in,  while  they  were  still  doubting,  and  con- 
firmed the  news  that  all  the  straits  and  passages  were  beset ; 
and  then  their  rage  and  fury,  as  well  as  their  necessity,  pro- 
voked them  all  to  fight. 

As  soon  as  it  was  day,  Xerxes  placed  himself  high  up,  to 
view  his  fleet,  and  how  it  was  set  in  order.  Phanodemus 
says,  he  sat  upon  a promontory  above  the  temple  of  Her 
cules,  where  the  coast  of  Attica  is  separated  from  the  island 
by  a narrow  channel ; but  Acestodorus  writes,  that  it  was  in 
the  confines  of  Megara,  upon  those  hills  which  are  called  the 
Horns,  where  he  sat  in  a chair  of  gold,  with  many  secretaries 
about  him  to  write  down  all  that  was  done  in  the  fight. 

When  Themistocles  was  about  to  sacrifice,  close  to  the 
admiral’s  galley,  there  were  three  prisoners  brought  to  him, 
fine  looking  men,  and  richly  dressed  in  ornamented  clothing 
and  gold,  said  to  be  the  children  of  Artayctes  and  Sandauce, 
sister  to  Xerxes.  As  soon  as  the  prophet  Euphran tides  saw 
them,  and  observed  that  at  the  same  time  the  fire  blazed  out 
from  the  offerings  with  a more  than  ordinary  flame,  and  a 
man  sneezed  on  the  right,  which  was  an  intimation  of  a fortu- 
nate event,  he  took  Themistocles  by  the  hand,  and  bade  him 
consecrate  the  three  young  men  for  sacrifice,  and  offer  them 
up  with  prayers  for  victory  to  Bacchus  the  Devourer  ; so 
should  the  Greeks  not  only  save  themselves,  but  also  obtain 
victory.  Themistocles  was  much  disturbed  at  this  strange 
and  terrible  prophecy,  but  the  common  people,  who,  in  any 
difficult  crisis  and  great  exigency,  ever  look  for  relief  rather 
to  strange  and  extravagant  than  to  reasonable  means,  calling 
upon  Bacchus  with  one  voice,  led  the  captives  to  the  altar, 
and  compelled  the  execution  of  the  sacrifice  as  the  prophet 
had  commanded.  This  is  reported  by  Phanias  the  Lesbian, 
a philosopher  well  read  in  history. 

The  number  of  the  enemy’s  ships  the  poet  .dEschylus  gives 
in  his  tragedy  called  the  Persians,  as  on  his  certain  knowl- 
edge, in  the  following  words — 

Xerxes,  I know,  did  into  battle  lead 

One  thousand  ships  ; of  more  than  usual  speed 

Seven  and  two  hundred.  So  it  is  agreed. 

The  Athenians  had  a hundred  and  eighty ; in  every  ship 
eighteen  men  fought  upon  the  deck,  four  of  whom  were 
archers  and  the  rest  men  at  arms. 

As  Themistocles  had  fixed  upon  the  most  advantageous 
place,  so,  with  no  less  sagacity,  he  chose  the  best  time  of 
fighting  j for  he  would  not  run  the  prows  of  his  galleys 


184 


THEMISTOCLES. 


against  the  Persians,  nor  begin  the  fight  till  the  time  of 
day  was  come,  when  there  regularly  blows  in  a fresh  breeze 
from  the  open  sea,  and  brings  in  with  it  a strong  swell  into 
the  channel  ; which  was  no  inconvenience  to  the  Greek  ships, 
which  were  low-built,  and  little  above  the  water,  but  did  much 
hurt  to  the  Persians,  which  had  high  sterns  and  lofty  decks, 
and  were  heavy  and  cumbrous  in  their  movements,  as  it 
presented  them  broadside  to  the  quick  charges  of  the  Greeks, 
who  kept  their  eyes  upon  the  motions  of  Themistocles,  as 
their  best  example,  and  more  particularly  because,  opposed  to 
his  ship,  Ariamenes,  admiral  to  Xerxes,  a brave  man,  and  by 
far  the  best  and  worthiest  of  the  king’s  brothers,  was  seen 
throwing  darts  and  shooting  arrows  from  his  huge  galley,  as 
from  the  walls  of  a castle.  Aminias  the  Decelean  and  Sos- 
icles  the  Pedian,  who  sailed  in  the  same  vessel,  upon  the 
ships  meeting  stem  to  stem,  and  transfixing  each  the  other  with 
their  brazen  prows,  so  that  they  were  fastened  together,  when 
Ariamenes  attempted  to  board  theirs,  ran  at  him  with  their 
pikes,  and  thrust  him  into  the  sea ; his  body,  as  it  floated 
amongst  other  shipwrecks,  was  known  to  Artemisia,  and  car- 
ried to  Xerxes. 

It  is  reported  that,  in  the  middle  of  the  fight,  a great  flame 
rose  into  the  air  above  the  city  of  Eleusis,  and  that  sounds 
and  voices  were  heard  through  all  the  Thriasian  plain,  as  far 
as  the  sea,  sounding  like  a number  of  men  accompanying  and 
escorting  the  mystic  lacchus,  and  that  a mist  seemed  to  form 
and  rise  from  the  place  from  whence  the  sounds  came,  and, 
passing  forward,  fell  upon  the  galleys.  Others  believed  that 
they  saw  apparitions,  in  the  shape  of  armed  men,  reaching 
out  their  hands  from  the  island  of  ^Egina  before  the  Grecian 
galleys ; and  supposed  they  were  the  ^acidae,  whom  they 
had  invoked  to  their  aid  before  the  battle.  The  first  man 
that  took  a ship  was  Lycomedes  the  Athenian,  captain  of  a 
galley,  who  cut  down  its  ensign,  and  dedicated  it  to  Apollo 
the  Laurel-crowned.  And  as  the  Persians  fought  in  a narrow 
arm  of  the  sea,  and  could  bring  but  part  of  their  fleet  to  fight, 
and  fell  foul  of  one  another,  the  Greeks  thus  equalled  them 
in  strength,  and  fought  with  them  till  the  evening  forced 
them  back,  and  obtained,  as  says  Simonides,  that  noble  and 
famous  victory,  than  which  neither  amongst  the  Greeks  nor 
barbarians  was  ever  known  more  glorious  exploit  on  the  seas  ; 
by  the  joint  valor,  indeed,  and  zeal  of  all  who  fought,  but  by 
the  wisdom  and  sagacity  of  Themistocles. 

After  this  sea-fight,  Xerxes,  enraged  at  his  illTortune^ 


THEMISTOCLES. 


iSc 

attempted,  by  casting  great  heaps  of  earth  and  stones  into  the 
sea,  to  stop  up  the  channel  and  to  make  a dam,  upon  which  he 
might  lead  his  land-forces  over  into  the  island  of  Salamis. 

Themistocles,  being  desirous  to  try  the  opinion  of  Aris- 
tides, told  him  that  he  proposed  to  set  sail  for  the  Hellespont, 
to  break  the  bridge  of  ships,  so  as  to  shut  up,  he  said,  Asia 
a prisoner  within  Europe  ; but  Aristides,  disliking  the  design, 
said,  “ We  have  hitherto  fought  with  an  enemy  who  has  re- 
garded little  else  but  his  pleasure  and  luxury  ; but  if  we  shut 
him  up  within  Greece,  and  drive  him  to  necessity,  he  that  is 
master  of  such  great  forces  will  no  longer  sit  quietly  with  an 
umbrella  of  gold  over  his  head,  looking  upon  the  fight  for 
his  pleasure  ; but  in  such  a strait  will  attempt  all  things  ; he 
will  be  resolute,  and  appear  himself  in  person  upon  all  oc- 
casions, he  will  soon  correct  his  errors,  and  supply  what  he 
has  formerly  omitted  through  remissness,  and  will  be  better 
advised  in  all  things.  Therefore,  it  is  noways  our  interest, 
Themistocles,’’  he  said,  “ to  take  away  the  bridge  that  is 
already  made,  but  rather  to  build  another,  if  it  were  possible 
that  he  might  make  his  retreat  with  the  more  expedition.” 
To  which  Themistocles  answered,  “ If  this  be  requisite, 
we  must  immediately  use  all  diligence,  art,  and  industry,  to 
rid  ourselves  of  him  as  soon  as  may  be  ; ” and  to  this  purpose 
he  found  out  among  the  captives  one  of  the  king  of  Persia’s 
eunuchs,  named  Arnaces,  whom  he  sent  to  the  king,  to  in- 
form him  that  the  Greeks,  being  now  victorious  by  sea,  had 
decreed  to  sail  to  the  Hellespont,  where  the  boats  were 
fastened  together,  and  destroy  the  bridge  ; but  that  The- 
mistocles, being  concerned  for  the  king,  revealed  this  to  him, 
that  he  might  hasten  towards  the  Asiatic  seas,  and  pass  over 
into  his  own  dominions  ; and  in  the  mean  time  would  cause 
delays  and  hinder  the  confederates  from  pursuing  him. 
Xerxes  no  sooner  heard  this,  but,  being  very  much  terrified, 
he  proceeded  to  retreat  out  of  Greece  with  all  speed.  The 
prudence  of  Themistocles  and  Aristides  in  this  was  afterwards 
more  f ally  understood  at  the  battle  of  Plataea,  where  Mar- 
dorimus,  with  a very  small  fraction  of  the  forces  of  Xerxes, 
put  the  Greeks  in  danger  of  losing  all. 

Herodotus  writes,  that  of  all  the  cities  of  Greece,  ^gina 
was  held  to  have  performed  the  best  service  in  the  war  ; 
while  all  single  men  yielded  to  Themistocles,  though,  out  of 
envy,  unwillingly ; and  when  they  returned  to  the  entrance  of 
Peloponnesus,  where  the  several  commanders  delivered  their 
suffrages  at  the  altar,  to  determine  who  was  most  worthyj 


i86 


THEMISTOCLES. 


every  one  gave  the  first  vote  for  himself  and  the  second  for 
Themistocles.  The  Lacedaemonians  carried  him  with  them 
to  Sparta,  where,  giving  the  rewards  of  valor  to  Eurybiades, 
and  of  wisdom  and  conduct  to  Themistocles,  they  crowned  him 
with  olive,  presented  him  with  the  best  chariot  in  the  city, 
and  sent  three  hundred  young  men  to  accompany  him  to  the 
confines  of  their  country.  And  at  the  next  Olympic  games, 
when  Themistocles  entered  the  course,  the  spectators  took 
no  farther  notice  of  those  who  were  contesting  the  prizes,  but 
spent  the  whole  day  in  looking  upon  him,  showing  him  to 
the  strangers,  admiring  him,  and  applauding  him  by  clapping 
their  hands,  and  other  expressions  of  joy,  so  that  he  himself, 
much  gratified,  confessed  to  his  friends  that  he  then  reaped 
the  fruit  of  all  his  labors  for  the  Greeks. 

He  was,  indeed  by  nature,  a great  lover  of  honor,  as  is 
evident  from  the  anecdotes  recorded  of  him.  When  chosen 
admiral  by  the  Athenians,  he  would  not  quite  conclude  any 
single  matter  of  business,  either  public  or  private,  but  deferred 
all  till  the  day  they  were  to  set  sail,  that,  by  despatching  a 
great  quantity  of  business,  all  at  once,  and  having  to  meet  a 
great  variety  of  people,  he  might  make  an  appearance  of 
greatness  and  power.  Viewing  the  dead  bodies  cast  up  by 
the  sea,  he  perceived  bracelets  and  necklaces  of  gold  about 
them,  yet  passed  on,  only  showing  them  to  a friend  that 
followed  him,  saying,  “ Take  you  these  things,  for  you  are 
not  Themistocles.’’  He  said  to  Antiphates,  a handsome 
young  man,  who  had  formerly  avoided,  but  now  in  his  glory 
courted  him,  Time,  young  man,  has  taught  us  both  a lesson.” 
He  said  that  the  Athenians  did  not  honor  him  or  admire  him, 
but  made,  as  it  were,  a sort  of  plane-tree  of  him  ; sheltered 
themselves  under  him  in  bad  weather,  and  as  soon  as  it  was 
fine,  plucked  his  leaves  and  cut  his  branches.  When  the 
Seriphian  told  him  that  he  had  not  obtained  this  honor  by 
himself,  but  by  the  greatness  of  the  city,  he  replied,  ‘‘  You 
speak  truth  ; I should  never  have  been  famous  if  I had  been 
of  Seriphus;  nor  you, -had  you  been  of  Athens.”  When 
another  of  the  generals,  who  thought  he  had  performed  con- 
siderable service  for  the  Athenians,  boastingly  compared  his 
actions  with  those  of  Themistocles,  he  told  him  that  once 
upon  a time  the  Day  after  the  Festival  found  fault  with  the 
Festival : “ On  you  there  is  nothing  but  hurry  and  trouble 
and  preparation,  but,  when  I come,  everybody  sits  down 
quietly  and  enjoys  himself;”  which  the  Festival  admitted 
V^as  true,  but  “ if  I had  not  come  first,  you  would  not  have 


THEMISTOCLES. 


t87 


come  at  all/’  “ Even  so,”  he  said,  “ il  Theiaistocles  had  not 
come  before,  where  had  you  been  now  ? ” Laughing  at  his 
own  son,  who  got  his  mother,  and,  by  his  mother’s  means,  his 
father  also,  to  indulge  him,  he  told  him  that  he  had  the  most 
power  of  any  one  in  Greece : ‘‘  For  the  Athenians  command 
the  rest  of  Greece,  I command  the  Athenians,  your  mother 
commands  me,  and  you  command  your  mother.”  Loving  to 
be  singulai  in  all  things,  when  he  had  land  to  sell,  he  ordered 
the  crier  to  give  notice  that  there  were  good  neighbors  near 
iU  Of  two  who  made  love  to  his  daughter,  he  preferred  the 
man  of  worth  to  the  one  who  was  rich,  saying  he  desired  a 
man  without  riches,  rather  than  riches  without  a man.  Such 
was  the  character  of  his  sayings. 

After  these  things,  he  began  to  rebuild  and  fortify  the  city 
of  Athens,  bribing,  asTheopompus  reports,  the  Lacedaemonian 
ephors  not  to  be  against  it,  but  as  most  relate  it,  overreaching 
and  deceiving  them.  For,  under  the  pretext  of  an  embassy, 
he  went  to  Sparta,  where  upon  the  Lacedaemonians  charging 
him  with  rebuilding  the  walls,  and  Poliarchus  coming  on  pur- 
pose from  ^gina  to  denounce  it,  he  denied  the  fact,  bidding 
them  to  send  people  to  Athens  to  see  whether  it  were  so  or 
no  ; by  which  delay  he  got  time  for  the  building  of  the  wall, 
and  also  placed  these  ambassadors  in  the  hands  of  his  coun- 
trymen as  hostages  for  him  ; and  so,  when  the  Lacedaemonians 
knew  the  truth,  they  did  him  no  hurt,  but,  suppressing  all 
display  of  their  anger  for  the  present,  sent  him  away. 

Next  he  proceeded  to  establish  the  harbor  of  Piraeus, 
observing  the  great  natural  advantages  of  the  locality,  and 
desirous  to  unite  the  whole  city  with  the  sea,  and  to  reverse, 
in  a manner,  the  policy  of  ancient  Athenian  kings,  who,  en- 
deavoring to  withdraw  their  subjects  from  the  sea,  and  to 
accustom  them  to  live,  not  by  sailing  about,  but  by  planting 
and  tilling  the  earth,  spread  the  story  of  the  dispute  between 
Minerva  and  Neptune  for  the  sovereignty  of  Athens,  in  which 
Minerva,  by  producing  to  the  judges  an  olive-tree,  was  de- 
clared to  have  won  ; whereas  Themistocles  did  not  only  knead 
up,  as  Aristophanes  says,  the  port  and  the  city  into  one,  but 
made  the  city  absolutely  the  dependant  and  the  adjunct  of 
the  port,  and  the  land  of  the  sea,  which  increased  the  power 
and  confid^mce  of  the  people  against  the  nobility ; the 
authority  coming  into  the  hands  of  sailors  and  boatswains 
and  pilots.  Thus  it  was  one  of  the  orders  of  the  thirty  tyrants, 
that  the  hustings  in  the  assembly,  which  had  faced  towards 
the  sea,  should  be  turned  round  towards  the  land  ; implying 


i88 


THEMISTOCLES. 


their  opinion  that  the  empire  b)^  sea  had  been  the  oiigin  of 
die  democracy,  and  that  the  farming  population  were  not  so 
much  opposed  to  oligarchy. 

Themistocles,  however,  formed  yet  higher  designs  with  a 
view  to  naval  supremacy.  For,  after  the  departure  of  Xerxes, 
when  the  Grecian  fleet  was  arrived  at  Pagasas,  where  they 
wintered,  Themistocles,  in  a public  oration  to  the  people  of 
Athens,  told  them  that  he  had  a design  to  perform  something 
that  would  tend  greatly  to  their  interests  and  safety,  but  was 
of  such  a nature,  that  it  could  not  be  made  generally  public. 
The  Athenians  ordered  him  to  impart  it  to  Aristides  only  ; 
and,  if  he  approved  of  it,  to  put  it  in  practice.  And  when  The- 
mistocles had  discovered  to  him  that  his  design  was  to  burn 
the  Grecian  fleet  in  the  haven  of  Pagasae,  Aristides,  coming 
out  to  the  people,  gave  this  report  of  the  stratagem  contrived 
by  Themistocles,  that  no  proposal  could  be  more  politic,  or 
more  dishonorable ; on  v/hich  the  Athenians  commanded 
Themistocles,  to  think  no  farther  of  it. 

When  the  Lacedaemonians  proposed,  at  the  general  coun 
cil  of  the  Amphictyonians,  that  the  representatives  of  those 
cities  which  were  not  in  the  league,  nor  had  fought  against 
the  Persians,  should  be  excluded,  Themistocles,  fearing  that 
the  Thessalians,  with  those  of  Thebes,  Argos,  and  others,  be- 
ing thrown  out  of  the  council,  the  Lacedaemonians  would  be- 
come wholly  masters  of  the  votes,  and  do  what  they  pleased, 
supported  the  deputies  of  the  cities,  and  prevailed  with  the 
members  then  sitting  to  alter  their  opinion  in  this  point, 
showing  them  that  there  were  but  one  and  thirty  cities  which 
had  partaken  in  the  war,  and  that  most  of  these,  also,  were 
very  small ; how  intolerable  would  it  be,  if  the  rest  of  Greece 
should  be  excluded,  and  the  general  council  should  come  to 
be  ruled  by  two  or  three  great  cities.  By  this,  chiefly,  he 
incurred  the  displeasure  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  whose  honors 
and  favors  were  now  shown  to  Cimon,  with  a view  to  making 
him  the  opponent  of  the  state  policy  of  Themistocles. 

He  was  also  burdensome  to  the  confederates,  sailing 
about  the  islands  and  collecting  money  from  them.  Herodotus 
says,  that,  requiring  money  of  those  of  the  island  of  Andros, 
he  told  them  that  he  had  brought  with  him  two  goddesses, 
Persuasion  and  Force;  and  they  answered  him  that  they  had 
also  two  great  goddesses,  which  prohibited  them  from  giving 
him  any  money.  Poverty  and  Impossibility.  Timocreon,  the 
Rhodian  poet,  reprehends  him  somewhat  bitterly  for  being 
wrought  upon  by  money  to  let  some  who  w’ere  banished  re 


THEMISTOCLES.  1 89 

while  abandoning  himself,  who  was  his  guest  and  friend. 
I'lie  verses  are  these  : — 

Pausanias  may  praise,  and  Xanthippus  he  be  for, 

For  Leutychidas,  a third  ; Aristides,  I proclaim, 

From  the  sacred  Athens  came, 

The  one  true  man  of  all ; for  Themistocles  Latona  doth  abhor, 

The  liar,  traitor,  cheat,  who,  to  gain  his  filthy  pay, 

Timocreon,  his  friend,  neglected  to  restore 
To  his  native  Rhodian  shore  ; 

Three  silver  talents  took,  and  departed  (curses  wdth  him)  on  his  way, 

Restoring  people  here,  expelling  there,  and  killing  here. 

Filling  evermore  his  purse  : and  at  the  Isthmus  gave  a treat. 

To  be  laughed  at,  of  cold  meat, 

Which  they  ate,  and  prayed  the  gods  some  one  else  might  give  the  feast 
another  year. 

But  after  the  sentence  and  banishment  of  Themistocles,  Ti- 
mocreon reviles  him  yet  more  immoderately  and  wildly  in  a 
poem  which  begins  thus  : — 

Unto  all  the  Greeks  repair 
O Muse,  and  tell  these  verses  there. 

As  is  fitting  and  is  fair. 

The  story  is,  that  it  was  put  to  the  question  whether  Timocre- 
on should  be  banished  for  siding  with  the  Persians,  and  The- 
niistocles  gave  his  vote  against  him.  So  when  Themistocles 
was  accused  of  intriguing  with  the  Medes,  Timocreon  made 
these  lines  upon  him  : — 

So  now  Timocreon,  indeed,  is  not  the  sole  friend  of  the  Mede, 

There  are  some  knaves  besides  ; nor  is  it  only  mine  that  fails 
But  other  foxes  have  lost  tails. — 

When  the  citizens  of  Athens  began  to  listen  willingly  to  those 
who  traduced  and  reproached  him,  he  was  forced,  with  some- 
what obnoxious  frequency,  to  put  them  in  mind  of  the  great 
services  he  had  performed,  and  ask  those  who  were  offended 
with  him  whether  they  were  weary  with  receiving  benefits 
often  from  the  same  person,  so  rendering  himself  more  odious. 
And  he  yet  more  provoked  the  people  by  building  a temple 
to  Diana  with  the  epithet  of  Aristobule,  or  Diana  of  Best 
Counsel  ; intimating  thereby,  that  he  had  given  the  best 
counsel,  not  only  to  the  Athenians,  but  to  all  Greece.  He 
built  this  temple  near  his  own  house,  in  the  district  called 
Melite,  where  now  the  public  officers  carry  out  the  bodies  of 
such  as  are  executed,  and  throw  the  halters  and  clothes  of 
those  that  are  strangled  or  otherwise  put  to  death.  There  is 
to  this  day  a small  figure  of  Themistocles  in  the  temple  of 
Diana  of  Best  Counsel,  which  represents  him  to  be  a persor 


THEMISTOCLES. 


190 

not  only  of  a noLle  mind,  but  also  of  a most  heroic  aspect 
At  length  the  Athenians  banished  him,  making  use  of  thrt 
ostracism  to  humble  his  eminence  and  authority,  as  they 
ordinarily  did  with  all  whom  they  thought  too  powerful,  or, 
by  their  greatness,  disproportionable  to  the  equality  thought 
requisite  in  a popular  government.  For  the  ostracism  was 
instituted,  not  so  much  to  punish  the  offender,  as  to  mitigate 
and  pacify  the  violence  of  the  envious,  who  delighted  to  hum- 
ble eminent  men,  and  who,  by  fixing  this  disgrace  upon  them, 
might  vent  some  part  of  their  rancor. 

Themistocles  being  banished  from  Athens,  while  he  stayed 
at  Argos  the  detection  of  Pausanias  happened,  which  gave 
such  advantage  to  his  enemies,  that  Leobotes  of  Agraule,  son 
of  Alcmaeon,  indicted  him  of  treason,  the  Spartans  supporting 
him  in  the  accusation. 

When  Pausanias  went  about  this  treasonable  design,  he 
concealed  it  at  first  from  Themistocles,  though  he  were  his 
intimate  friend ; but  when  he  saw  him  expelled  out  of  the 
commonwealth,  and  how  impatiently  he  took  his  banishment, 
he  ventured  to  communicate  it  to  him,  and  desired  his  as- 
sistance, showing  him  the  king  of  Persia’s  letters,  and  exas- 
perating him  against  the  Greeks,  as  a villanous,  ungrateful 
people.  However,  Themistocles  immediately  rejected  the 
proposals  of  Pausanias,  and  wholly  refused  to  be  a party  in 
the  enterprise,  though  he  never  revealed  his  communications, 
nor  disclosed  the  conspiracy  to  any  man,  either  hoping  that 
Pausanias  would  desist  from  his  intentions,  or  expecting  that 
so  inconsiderate  an  attempt  after  such  chimerical  objects 
would  be  discovered  by  other  means. 

After  that  Pausanias  was  put  to  death,  letters  and  writings 
being  found  concerning  this  matter,  which  rendered  Themis- 
tocles suspected,  the  Lacedaemonians  were  clamorous  against 
him,  and  his  enemies  among  the  Athenians  accused  him  ; 
when,  being  absent  from  Athens,  he  made  his  defence  by 
letters,  especially  against  the  points  that  had  been  previously 
alleged  against  him.  In  answer  to  the  malicious  detractions 
of  his  enemies,  he  merely  wrote  to  the  citizens,  urging  that  he 
who  was  always  ambitious  to  govern,  and  not  of  a character 
or  a disposition  to  serve,  would  never  sell  himself  and  his 
country  into  slavery  to  a barbarous  and  hostile  nation. 

Notwithstanding  this,  the  people,  being  persuaded  by  his 
accusers,  sent  officers  to  take  him  and  bring  him  away  to  be 
tried  before  a council  of  the  Greeks,  but,  having  timely  notice 
of  it,  he  passed  over  into  the  island  of  Corcyra,  where  the 


THEMISTOCLES. 


191 


state  was  under  obligations  to  him  ; for,  being  chosen  as 
arbitrator  in  a difference  between  them  and  the  Corinthians, 
he  decided  the  controversy  by  ordering  the  Corinthians  to 
pay  down  twenty  talents,  and  declaring  the  town  and  island 
of  Leucas  a joint  colony  from  both  cities.  From  thence  he 
fled  into  Epirus,  and,  the  Athenians  and  Lacedaemonians  still 
pursuing  him,  he  threw  himself  upon  chances  of  safety  that 
seemed  all  but  desperate.  For  he  fled  for  refuge  to  Admetus, 
king  of  the  Molossians,  who  had  formerly  made  some  request 
to  the  Athenians,  when  Themistocles  was  in  the  height  of  hia 
authority,  and  had  been  disdainfully  used  and  insulted  by  him, 
and  had  let  it  appear  plain  enough,  that,  could  he  lay  hold 
of  him,  he  would  take  his  revenge.  Yet  in  this  misfortune, 
Themistocles,  fearing  the  recent  hatred  of  his  neighbors  and 
fellow-citizens  more  than  the  old  displeasure  of  the  king,  put 
himself  at  his  mercy,  and  became  an  humble  suppliant  to 
Admetus,  after  a peculiar  manner,  different  from  the  custom 
of  other  countries.  For  taking  the  king’s  son,  who  was  then 
a child,  in  his  arms,  he  laid  himself  down  at  his  hearth,  this 
being  the  most  sacred  and  only  manner  of  supplication 
among  the  Molossians,  which  was  not  to  be  refused.  And 
some  say  that  his  wife,  Phthia,  intimated  to  Themistocles  this 
way  of  petitioning,  and  placed  her  young  son  with  him  before 
the  hearth  ; others,  that  king  Admetus,  that  he  might  be 
under  a religious  obligation  not  to  deliver  him  up  to  his  pur- 
suers, prepared  and  enacted  with  him  a sort  of  stage-play  to 
this  effect.  At  this  time,  Epicrates  of  Acharnoe  privately 
conveyed  his  wife  and  children  out  of  Athens,  and  sent  them 
hither,  for  which  afterwards  Cimon  condemned  him  and  put 
him  to  death  ; as  Stesimbrotus  reports,  and  yet  somehow, 
either  forgetting  this  himself,  or  making  Themistocles  to  be 
little  mindful  of  it,  says  presently  that  he  sailed  into  Sicily, 
and  desired  in  marriage  the  daughter  of  Hiero,  tyrant  of 
Syracuse,  promising  to  bring  the  Greeks  under  his  power  ; 
aiid,  on  Hiero  refusing  him,  departed  thence  into  Asia ; but 
this  is  not  probable. 

For  Theophrastus  writes,  in  his  work  on  Monarchy,  that 
when  Hiero  sent  race-horses  to  the  Olympian  games,  and 
erected  a pavilion  sumptuously  furnished,  Themistocles  made 
an  oration  to  the  Greeks,  inciting  them  to  pull  down  the 
tyrant’s  tent,  and  not  to  suffer  his  horses  to  run.  Thucydides 
says,  that,  passing  over  land  to  the  .^gaean  Sea,  he  took  ship 
at  Pydna  in  the  bay  Therme,  not  being  known  to  any  one  in 
the  ship,  till,  being  terrified  to  see  the  vessel  driven  by  the 


192 


THEMISTOCLES. 


winds  near  to  Naxos,  which  was  then  besieged  by  the  Athe- 
nians, he  made  himself  known  to  the  master  and  pilot,  and 
partly  entreating  them,  partly  threatening  that  if  they  went  on 
shore  he  would  accuse  them,  and  make  the  Athenians  to  be- 
lieve that  they  did  not  take  him  in  out  of  ignorance,  but  that 
he  had  corrupted  them  with  money  from  the  beginning,  he 
compelled  them  to  bear  off  and  stand  out  to  sea,  and  sail  for- 
ward towards  the  coast  of  Asia. 

A great  part  of  his  estate  was  privately  conveyed  aw^ay  by 
his  friends,  and  sent  after  him  by  sea  into  Asia  ; besides 
which,  there  was  discovered  and  confiscated  to  the  value  of 
fourscore  talents,  as  Theophrastus  writes ; Theopompus  says 
an  hundred  ; though  Themistocles  was  never  worth  three 
talents  before  he  was  concerned  in  public  affairs. 

When  he  arrived  at  Cyme,  and  understood  that  all  along 
the  coast  there  were  many  laid  wait  for  him,  and  particularly 
Ergoteles  and  Pythodorus  (for  the  game  was  worth  the  hunt- 
ing for  such  as  were  thankful  to  make  money  by  any  means, 
the  king  of  Persia  having  offered  by  public  proclamation  two 
hundred  talents  to  him  that  should  take  him),  he  fled  to  -^gae, 
a small  city  of  the  ^olians,  where  no  one  knew  him  but  only 
his  host  Nicogenes,  who  was  the  richest  man  in  ^olia,  and  .well 
known  to  the  great  men  of  Inner  Asia.  While  Themistocles 
lay  hid  for  some  days  in  his  house,  one  night,  after  a sacrifice 
and  supper  ensuing,  Olbius,  the  attendant  upon  Nicogenes’s 
children,  fell  into  a sort  of  frenzy  and  fit  of  inspiration,  and 
cried  out  in  verse, — 

Night  shall  speak,  and  night  instruct  thee, 

By  the  voice  of  night  conduct  thee. 

After  this,  Themistocles,  going  to  bed,  dreamed  that  he  saw  a 
snake  coil  itself  up  upon  his  belly,  and  so  creep  to  his  neck  ; 
then,  as  soon  as  it  touched  his  face,  it  turned  into  an  eagle, 
which  spread  its  wings  over  him,  and  took  him  up  and  flew 
away  with  him  a great  distance ; then  there  appeared  a her- 
ald’s golden  wand,  and  upon  this  at  last  it  set  him  down  se- 
curely, after  infinite  terror  and  disturbance. 

His  departure  was  effected  by  Nicogenes  by  the  following 
artifice  ; the  barbarous  nations,  and  amongst  them  the  Persians 
especially,  are  extremely  jealous,  severe,  and  suspicious  about 
their  women,  not  only  their  wives,  but  also  their  bought  slaves 
and  concubines,  whom  they  keep  so  strictly  t^at  no  one  ever 
sees  them  abroad  ; they  spend  their  lives  shut  up  within  doors, 
and,  when  they  take  a journey,  are  carried  ii?  close  tents,  cui- 


THEMISTOCLES. 


193 


tained  in  on  all  sides,  and  set  upon  a wagon.  Such  a travel- 
ling carriage  being  prepared  for  Themistocles,  they  hid  him 
in  it,  and  carried  him  on  his  journey,  and  told  those  whom 
they  met  or  spoke  with  upon  the  road  that  they  were  convey- 
ing a young  Greek  woman  out  of  Ionia  to  a nobleman  at 
court. 

Thucydides  and  Charon  of  Lampsacus  say  that  Xerxes 
was  dead,  and  that  Themistocles  had  an  interview  with  his 
son  ; but  Ephorus,  Dinon,  Clitarchus,  Heraclides,  and  many 
others,  write  that  he  came  to  Xerxes.  The  chronological 
tables  better  agree  with  the  account  of  Thucydides,  and  yet 
neither  can  their  statements  be  said  to  be  quite  set  at  rest. 

When  Themistocles  was  come  to  the  critical  point,  he  ap- 
plied himself  first  to  Artabanus,  commander  of  a thousand 
men,  telling  him  that  he  was  a Greek,  and  desired  to  speak 
with  the  king  about  important  affairs  concerning  which  the 
king  was  extremely  solicitous.  Artabanus  answered  him,  ‘‘  O 
stranger,  the  laws  of  men  are  different,  and  one  thing  is  hon- 
orable to  one  man,  and  to  others  another ; but  it  is  honorable 
for  all  to  honor  and  observe  their  own  laws.  It  is  the  habit 
of  the  Greeks,  we  are  told,  to  honor,  above  all  things,  liberty 
and  equality ; but  amongst  our  many  excellent  laws,  we  ac- 
count this  the  most  excellent,  to  honor  the  king,  and  to  wor- 
ship him,  as  the  image  of  the  great  preserver  of  the  universe  ; 
if,  then,  you  shall  consent  to  our  laws,  and  fall  down  before 
the  king  and  worship  him,  you  may  both  see  him  and  speak 
to  him  ; but  if  your  mind  be  otherwise,  you  must  make  use  of 
others  to  intercede  for  you,  for  it  is  not  the  national  custom 
here  for  the  king  to  give  audience  to  any  one  that  doth  not 
fall  down  before  him.’’  Themistocles,  hearing  this,  replied, 
“ Artabanus,  I that  come  hither  to  increase  the  power  and 
glory  of  the  king,  will  not  only  submit  myself  to  his  laws,  since 
so  it  hath  pleased  the  god  who  exalteth  the  Persian  empire 
to  this  greatness,  but  will  also  cause  many  more  to  be  wor- 
shippers and  adorers  of  the  king.  Let  not  this,  therefore,  be 
an  impediment  why  I should  not  communicate  to  the  king 
what  I have  to  impart.^’  Artabanus  asking  him,  “ Who  must 
w^e  tell  him  that  you  are  ? for  your  words  signify  you  to  be  no 
ordinary  person,^’  Themistocles  answered,  “No  man,  0 Aica- 
baiius,  must  be  informed  of  this  before  the  king  himself.’’ 
Thus  Phanias  relates  ; to  which  Eratosthenes,  in  his  treatise 
on  Riches,  adds,  that  it  was  by  the  means  of  a woman  of 
Eretria,  who  was  kept  by  Artabanus,  that  he  obtained  this 
audience  and  interview  with  him. 

13 


194 


THEMISTOCLES. 


When  he  was  introduced  to  the  king,  and  had  paid  his 
reverence  to  him,  he  stood  silent,  till  the  king  commanding  the 
interpreter  to  ask  him  who  he  was,  he  replied,  ‘‘  O king,  I am 
Themistocles  the  Athenian,  driven  into  banishment  by  the 
Greeks.  The  evils  that  I have  done  to  the  Persians  are  nu- 
merous ; but  my  benefits  to  them  yet  greater,  in  withholding 
the  Greeks  from  pursuit,  so  soon  as  the  deliverance  of  my  own 
countr)  allowed  me  to  show  kindness  also  to  you.  I come 
with  a mind  suited  to  my  present  calamities  ; prepared  alike  for 
favors  and  for  anger;  to  welcome  your  gracious  reconciliation^ 
and  to  deprecate  your  wrath.  Take  my  own  countrymen  for 
witnesses  of  the  services  I have  done  for  Persia,  and  make 
use  of  this  occasion  to  show  the  world  your  virtue,  rather  than 
to  satisfy  your  indignation.  If  you  save  me,  you  will  save 
your  suppliant ; if  otherwise,  will  destroy  an  enemy  of  the 
Greeks.’^  He  talked  also  of  divine  admonitions,  such  as  the 
vision  which  he  saw  at  Nicogenes’s  house,  and  the  direction 
given  him  by  the  oracle  of  Dodona,  where  Jupiter  commanded 
him  to  go  to  him  that  had  a name  like  his,  by  which  he  under- 
stood that  he  was  sent  from  Jupiter  to  him,  seeing  that  they 
both  were  great,  and  had  the  name  of  kings. 

The  king  heard  him  attentively,  and,  though  he  admired 
his  temper  and  courage,  gave  him  no  answer  at  that  time  ; 
but,  when  he  was  with  his  intimate  friends,  rejoiced  in  his 
great  good  fortune,  and  esteemed  himself  very  happy  in  this, 
and  prayed  to  his  god  Arimanius,  that  all  his  enemies  might 
be  ever  of  the  same  mind  with  the  Greeks,  to  abuse  and  expel 
the  bravest  men  amongst  them.  Then  he  sacrificed  to  the 
gods,  and  presently  fell  to  drinking,  and  was  so  well  pleased, 
that  in  the  night,  in  the  middle  of  his  sleep,  he  cried  out  for 
joy  three  times,  I have  Themistocles  the  Athenian.” 

In  the  morning,  calling  together  the  chief  of  his  court,  he 
had  "J'hemistocles  brought  before  him,  who  expected  no  good 
of  it,  when  he  saw,  for  example,  the  guards  fiercely  set  against 
him  as  soon  as  they  learnt  his  name,  and  giving  him  ill  lan- 
guage. As  he  came  forward  towards  the  king,  who  was  seated, 
the  rest  keeping  silence,  passing  by  Roxanes,  a commander 
of  a thousand  men,  he  heard  him,  with  a slight  groan,  say, 
without  stirring  out  of  his  place,  “ You  subtle  Greek  serpent,  the 
king’s  good  genius  hath  brought  thee  hither.”  Yet,  when  he 
came  into  the  presence,  and  again  fell  down,  the  king  saluted 
him,  and  spake  to  him  kindly,  telling  him  he  was  now  indebted 
to  him  two  hundred  talents  ; for  it  was  just  and  reasonable  that 
he  should  receive  the  reward  which  was  proposed  to  whoso 


THEMISTOCLES. 


19s 


ever  should  bring  Themistocles  ; and  promising  much  more, 
and  encouraging  him,  he  commanded  him  to  speak  freely 
what  he  would  concerning  the  affairs  of  Greece.  Themis- 
tocles replied,  that  a man's  discourse  was  like  to  a rich  Per- 
sian carpet,  the  beautiful  figures  and  patterns  of  which  can 
only  be  shown  by  spreading  and  extending  it  out ; when  it  is 
contracted  and  folded  up,  they  are  obscure  and  lost ; and, 
therefore,  he  desired  time.  The  king  being  pleased  with  the 
comparison,  and  bidding  him  take  what  time  he  would,  he 
desired  a year ; in  which  time,  having  learnt  the  Persian  lan- 
guage sufficiently,  he  spoke  with  the  king  by  himself  without 
the  help  of  an  interpreter,  it  being  supposed  that  he  dis- 
coursed only  about  the  affairs  of  Greece ; but  there  hap- 
pening, at  the  same  time,  great  alterations  at  court,  and  re- 
movals of  the  king’s  favorites,  he  drew  upon  himself  the  envy 
of  the  great  people,  who  imagined  that  he  had  taken  the 
boldness  to  speak  concerning  them.  For  the  favors  shown 
to  other  strangers  were  nothing  in  comparison  with  the  honors 
conferred  on  him  ; the  king  invited  him  to  partake  of  his 
own  pastimes  and  recreations  both  at  home  and  abroad,  car- 
rying him  with  him  a-hunting,  and  made  him  his  intimate  so 
far  that  he  permitted  him  to  see  the  queen-mother,  and  con- 
verse frequently  with  her.  By  the  king’s  command,  he  also 
was  made  acquainted  with  the  Magian  learning. 

When  Demaratus  the  Lacedaemonian,  being  ordered  by 
the  king  to  ask  whatsoever  he  pleased,  that  it  should  imme- 
diately be  granted  him,  desired  that  he  might  make  his  public 
entrance,  and  be  carried  in  state  through  the  city  of  Sardis, 
with  the  tiara  set  in  the  royal  manner  upon  his  head,  Mithro- 
panstes,  cousin  to  the  king,  touched  him  on  the  head,  and 
told  him  that  he  had  no  brains  for  the  royal  tiara  to  cover, 
and  if  Jupiter  should  give  him  his  lightning  and  thunder,  he 
would  not  any  the  more  be  Jupiter  for  that ; the  king  also 
repulsed  him  with  anger,  resolving  never  to  be  reconciled  to 
him,  but  to  be  inexorable  to  all  supplications  on  his  behalf. 
Yet  Themistocles  pacified  him,  and  prevailed  with  him  to 
forgive  him.  And  it  is  reported,  that  the  succeeding  kings, 
in  whose  reigns  there  was  a greater  communication  between 
the  Greeks  and  Persians,  when  they  invited  any  considerable 
Greek  into  their  service,  to  encourage  him,  would  write,  and 
promise  him  that  he  should  be  as  great  with  them  as  Themis- 
tocles had  been.  They  relate,  also,  how  Themistocles,  when 
he  was  in  great  prosperity,  and  courted  by  many,  seeing  him- 
self splendidly  served  at  his  table,  turned  to  his  children  and 


196 


THEMISTOCLES. 


said,  Children,  we  had  been  undone  if  we  had  not  been 
undone/^  Most  writers  say  that  he  had  three  cities  giver 
him,  Magnesia,  Myus,  and  Lampsacus,  to  maintain  him  in 
bread,  meat,  and  wine.  Neanthes  of  Cyzicus,  and  Phanias, 
add  two  more,  the  city  of  Pal^scepsis,  to  provide  him  with 
clothes,  and  Percote,  with  bedding  and  furniture  for  bis 
house. 

As  he  was  going  down  towards  the  sea-coast  to  take 
measures  against  Greece,  a Persian  whose  name  was  Epixyes, 
governor  of  the  upper  Phrygia,  laid  wait  to  kill  him,  having 
for  that  purpose  provided  a long  time  before  a number  of 
Pisidians,  who  were  to  set  upon  him  when  he  should  stop  to 
rest  at  a city  that  is  called  Lion’s-head.  But  Themistocles, 
sleeping  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  saw  the  Mother  of  the 
gods  appear  to  him  in  a dream  and  say  unto  him,  “ Themisto- 
cles, keep  back  from  the  Lion’s-head,  for  fear  you  fall  into 
the  lion’s  jaws  ; for  this  advice  I expect  that  your  daughter 
Mnesiptolema  should  be  my  servant.”  Themistocles  was 
much  astonished,  and  when  he  had  made  his  vows  to  the 
goddess,  left  the  broad  road,  and,  making  a circuit,  went 
another  way,  changing  his  intended  station  to  avoid  that 
place,  and  at  night  took  up  his  rest  in  the  fields.  But  one  of 
the  sumpter-horses,  which  carried  the  furniture  for  his  tent, 
having  fallen  that  day  into  the  river,  his  servants  spread  out 
the  tapestry,  which  was  wet,  and  hung  .it  up  to  dry ; in  the 
mean  time  the  Pisidians  made  towards  them  with  their  swords 
drawn,  and,  not  discerning  exactly  by  the  moon  what  it  was 
that  was  stretched  out,  thought  it  to  be  the  tent  of  Themisto- 
cles, and  that  they  should  find  him  resting  himself  within  it; 
but  when  they  came  near,  and  lifted  up  the  hangings,  those  who 
watched  there  fell  upon  them  and  took  them.  Themistocles, 
having  escaped  this  great  danger,  in  admiration  of  the  good- 
ness of  the  goddess  that  appeared  to  him,  built,  in  memory 
of  it,  a temple  in  the  city  of  Magnesia,  which  he  dedicated 
to  Dindymene,  Mother  of  the  gods,  in  which  he  consecrated 
.and  devoted  his  daughter  Mnesiptolema  to  her  service. 

When  he  came  to  Sardis,  he  visited  the  temples  of  the  gods, 
and  observing,  at  his  leisure,  their  buildings,  ornaments,  and 
the  number  of  their  offerings,  he  saw  in  the  temple  of  the 
Mother  of  the  gods,  the  statue  of  a virgin  in  brass,  two  cubits 
high,  called  the  water-bringer.  Themistocles  had  caused  this 
to  be  made  and  set  up  when  he  was  surveyor  of  the  waters  at 
Athens,  out  of  the  fines  of  those  whom  he  detected  in  draw- 
ing off  and  diverting  the  public  water  by  pipes  for  their  pri- 


THEMISTOCLES. 


197 


vate  use ; and  whether  he  had  some  regret  to  see  this  image 
in  captivity,  or  was  desirous  to  let  the  Athenians  see  in  what 
great  credit  and  authority  he  was  with  the  king,  he  entered 
into  a treaty  with  the  governor  of  Lydia  to  persuade  him  to 
sene  this  statue  back  to  Athens,  which  so  enraged  the  Per- 
siar  offeer,  that  he  told  him  he  would  write  the  king  word  of 
^ it.  Themistocles,  being  affrighted  hereat,  got  access  to  his 
wives  and  concubines,  by  presents  of  money  to  whom,  he  ap- 
peased the  fury  of  the  governor  ; and  afterwards  behaved 
with  more  reserve  and  circumspection,  fearing  the  envy  of 
the  Persians,  and  did  not,  as  Theopompus  writes,  continue 
to  travel  about  Asia,  but  lived  quietly  in  his  own  house  in 
Magnesia,  where  for  a long  time  he  passed  his  days  in  great 
security,  being  courted  by  all,  and  enjoying  rich  presents, 
and  honored  equally  with  the  greatest  persons  in  the  Persian 
empire  ; the  king,  at  that  time,  not  minding  his  concerns  with 
Greece,  being  taken  up  with  the  affairs  of  inner  Asia. 

But  when  Egypt  revolted,  being  assisted  by  the  Athenians, 
and  the  Greek  galleys  roved  about  as  far  as  Cyprus  and 
Cilicia,  and  Cimon  had  made  himself  master  of  the  seas,  the 
king  turned  his  thoughts  thither,  and,  bending  his  mind  chiefly 
to  resist  the  Greeks,  and  to  check  the  growth  of  their  power 
against  him,  began  to  raise  forces,  and  send  out  commanders, 
and  to  dispatch  messengers  to  Themistocles  at  Magnesia,  to 
put  him  in  mind  of  his  promise,  and  to  summon  him  to  act 
against  the  Greeks.  Yet  this  did  not  increase  his  hatred  nor 
exasperate  him  against  the  Athenians,  neither  was  he  in  any 
way  elevated  with  the  thoughts  of  the  honor  and  powerful 
command  he  was  to  have  in  this  war  ; but  judging,  perhaps, 
that  the  object  would  not  be  attained,  the  Greeks  having  at 
that  time,  beside  other  great  commanders,  Cimon,  in  particu- 
lar, who  was  gaining  wonderful  military  successes  ; but  chiefly, 
being  ashamed  to  sully  the  glory  of  his  former  great  actions, 
and  of  his  many  victories  and  trophies,  he  determined  to  put 
a conclusion  to  his  life,  agreeable  to  its  previous  course.  He 
sacrificed  to  the  gods,  and  invited  his  friends ; and,  having 
entertained  them  and  shaken  hands  with  them,  drank  bull's 
blood,  as  is  the  usual  story  ; as  others  state,  a poison  pro- 
ducing instant  death  ; and  ended  his  days  in  the  city  of  Mag- 
nesia, having  lived  sixty-five  years,  most  of  which  he  had 
spent  in  politics  and  in  the  wars,  in  government  and  com- 
mand. The  king,  being  informed  of  the  cause  and  manner 
of  his  death,  admired  him  more  than  ever,  and  continued  In 
show  kindness  to  his  friends  and  relations. 


198 


THEMISTOCLES. 


Themistocles  left  three  sons  by  Archippe,  daughter  tc 
Lysander  of  Alopece, — Archeptolis,  Polyeuctus,  and  Cleo- 
phantus.  Plato,  the  philosopher,  mentions  the  last  as  a most 
excellent  horseman,  but  otherwise  insignificant  person  ; of 
two  sons  yet  older  than  these,  Neocles  and  Disocles,  Neocles 
died  when  he  was  young  by  the  bite  of  a horse,  and  Diodes 
was  adopted  by  his  grandfather,  Lysander.  He  had  many 
daughters,  of  whom  Mnesiptolema,  whom  he  had  by  a second 
marriage,  was  wife  to  Archeptolis,  her  brother  by  another 
mother ; Italia  was  married  to  Panthoides,  of  the  island 
of  Chios ; Sybaris  to  Nicomedes  the  Athenian.  After  the 
death  of  Themistocles,  his  nephew,  Phrasicles,  went  to  Mag- 
nesia, and  married,  with  her  brothers’  consent,  another 
daughter,  Nicomache,  and  took  charge  of  her  sister  Asia,  the 
youngest  of  all  the  children. 

The  Magnesians  possess  a splendid  sepulchre  of  Themis- 
tocles, placed  in  the  middle  of  their  market-place.  It  is  not 
worth  while  taking  notice  of  what  Andocides  states  in  his  ad- 
dress to  his  Friends  concerning  his  remains,  how  the  Athe- 
nians robbed  his  tomb,  and  threw  his  ashes  into  the  air ; for 
he  feigns  this,  to  exasperate  the  oligarchical  faction  against 
the  people  ; and  there  is  no  man  living  but  knows  that  Phy- 
larchus  simply  invents  in  his  history,  where  he  all  but  uses  an 
actual  stage  machine,  and  brings  in  Neocles  and  Demopolis  as 
the  sons  of  Themistocles,  to  incite  or  move  compassion,  as  if 
he  were  writing  a tragedy.  Diodorus  the  cosmographer  says, 
in  his  work  on  Tombs,  but  by  conjecture  rather  than  of  cer- 
tain knowledge,  that  near  to  the  haven  of  Piraeus  where  the 
land  runs  out  like  an  elbow  from  the  promontory  of  Alcimus, 
when  you  have  doubled  the  cape  and  passed  inward  where  the 
sea  is  always  calm,  there  is  a large  piece  of  masonry,  and 
upon  this  the  Tomb  of  Themistocles,  in  the  shape  of  an  altar  j 
and  Plato  the  comedian  confirms  this,  he  believes,  in  these 
verses, — 

Thy  tomb  is  fairly  placed  upon  the  strand, 

Where  merchants  still  shall  greet  it  with  the  land ; 

Still  in  and  out’t  will  see  them  come  and  go, 

And  watch  the  galleys  as  they  race  below. 

Various  honors  also  and  privileges  were  granted  to  the 
kindred  of  Themistocles  at  Magnesia,  which  were  observed 
down  to  our  times,  and  were  enjoyed  by  another  Themistocles 
of  Athens,  with  whom  I had  an  intimate  acquaintance  and 
friendship  in  the  house  of  Ammonius  the  philosopher. 


CAMILLUS. 


199 


CAMILLUS, 

Among  the  many  remarkable  things  that  are  related  of 
Fuiius  Camillus,  it  seems  singular  and  strange  above  all,  that 
he,  who  continually  was  in  the  highest  commands,  and  ob' 
lained  the  greatest  successes,  was  five  times  chosen  dictator, 
triumphed  four  times,  and  was  styled  a second  founder  ot 
Rome,  yet  never  was  so  much  as  once  consul.  The  reason 
of  which  was  the  state  and  temper  of  the  commonwealth  at 
that  time  ; for  the  people,  being  at  dissension  with  the  senate, 
refused  to  return  consuls,  but  in  their  stead  elected  other 
magistrates,  called  military  tribunes,  who  acted,  indeed,  with 
full  consular  power,  but  were  thought  to  exercise  a less  ob- 
noxious amount  of  authority,  because  it  was  divided  among  a 
larger  number  ; for  to  have  the  management  of  affairs  in- 
trusted in  the  hands  of  six  persons  rather  than  two,  was  some 
satisfaction  to  the  opponents  of  oligarchy.  This  was  the  con- 
dition of  the  times  when  Camillus  was  in  the  height  of  his 
actions  and  glory,  and,  although  the  government  in  the  mean 
time  had  often  proceeded  to  consular  elections,  yet  he  could 
never  persuade  himself  to  be  consul  against  the  inclination  of 
the  people.  In  all  his  other  administrations,  which  were  many 
and  various,  he  so  behaved  himself,  that,  when  alone  in 
authority,  he  exercised  his  power  as  in  common,  but  the 
honor  of  all  actions  redounded  entirely  to  himself,  even 
when  in  joint  commission  with  others  ; the  reason  of  the  for- 
mer was  his  moderation  in  command  ; of  the  latter,  his  great 
judgment  and  wisdom,  which  gave  him  without  controversy 
the  first  place. 

The  house  of  the  Furii  was  not,  at  that  time,  of  any  con- 
siderable distinction  ; he,  by  his  own  acts,  first  raised  him- 
self to  honor,  serving  under  Postumius  Tubertis,  dictator,  in 
the  great  battle  against  the  ^quians  and  Volscians.  For 
riding  out  from  the  rest  of  the  army,  and  in  the  charge  receiv- 
ing a wound  in  his  thigh,  he  for  all  that  did  not  quit  the  right, 
but,  letting  the  dart  drag  in  the  wound,  and  engaging  with 
the  bravest  of  the  enemy,  put  them  to  flight ; for  which  ac- 
tion, among  other  rewards  bestowed  on  him,  he  was  created 
censor,  an  office  in  those  days  of  great  repute  and  authority. 
During  his  censorship  one  very  good  act  of  his  is  recorded,  that, 
whereas  the  v/ars  had  made  many  widows,  he  obliged  such  aa 


200 


CAMILLUS. 


had  no  wives,  some  by  fair  persuasion,  others  by  threatening 
to  set  fines  on  their  heads,  to  take  them  in  marriag;e  ; another 
necessary  one,  in  causing  orphans  to  be  rated,  who  before 
were  exempted  from  taxes,  the  frequent  wars  requiring  more 
than  ordinary  expenses  to  maintain  them.  What,  however, 
pressed  them  most  was  the  siege  of  Veii.  Some  call  this 
people  Veientani.  This  was  the  head  city  of  Tuscany,  not 
inferior  to  Rome,  either  in  number  of  arms  or  multitude  of 
soidiers,  insomuch  that,  presuming  on  her  wealth  and  luxury, 
and  priding  herself  upon  her  refinement  and  sumptuousness, 
she  engaged  in  many  honorable  contests  with  the  Romans 
for  glory  and  empire.  But  now  they  had  abandoned  their 
former  ambitious  hopes,  having  been  weakened  by  great  de- 
feats, so  that,  having  fortified  themselves  with  high  and  strong 
walls,  and  furnished  the  city  with  all  sorts  of  weapons  offen- 
sive and  defensive,  as  likewise  with  corn  and  all  manner  of 
provisions,  they  cheerfully  endured  a siege,  which,  though 
tedious  to  them,  was  no  less  troublesome  and  distressing 
to  the  besiegers.  For  the  Romans,  having  never  been  ac- 
customed to  stay  away  from  home  except  in  summer,  and 
for  no  great  length  of  time,  and  constantly  to  winter  at 
home,  were  then  first  compelled  by  the  tribunes  to.  build 
forts  in  the  enemy’s  country,  and  raising  strong  works  about 
their  camp,  to  join  winter  and  summer  together.  And  now, 
the  seventh  year  of  the  war  drawing  to  an  end,  the  com- 
manders began  to  be  suspected  as  too  slow  and  remiss  in 
driving  on  the  siege,  insomuch  that  they  were  discharged 
and  others  chosen  for  the  war,  among  whom  was  Camillus, 
then  second  time  tribune.  But  at  present  he  had  no  hand  in 
the  siege,  the  duties  that  fell  by  lot  to  him  being  to  make  war 
upon  the  Faliscans  and  Capenates,  who,  taking  advantage  of 
the  Romans  being  occupied  on  all  hands,  had  carried  rava- 
ges into  their  country,  and,  through  all  the  Tuscan  war,  given 
them  much  annoyance,  but  were  now  reduced  by  Camillus, 
and  with  great  loss  shut  up  within  their  walls. 

And  now,  in  the  very  heat  of  the  war,  a strange  j)henome- 
non  in  the  Alban  lake,  which,  in  the  absence  of  any  known 
cause  and  explanation  by  natural  reasons,  seemed  as  great  a 
prodigy  as  the  most  incredible  that  are  reported,  occasioned 
great  alarm.  It  was  the  beginning  of  autumn,  and  the  sum- 
mer now  ending  had,  to  all  observation,  been  neither  rainy  or 
much  troubled  with  southern  winds  ; and  many  of  the  lakes, 
brooks,  and  springs  of  all  sorts  with  which  Italy  abounds, 
some  were  wholly  dried  up,  others  drew  very  little  water  with 


CAMILLUS. 


201 


them  ; all  the  rivers,  as  is  usual  in  summer,  ran  in  a very  Iom 
and  hollow  channel.  But  the  Alban  lake,  that  is  fed  by  no 
other  waters  but  its  own,  and  is  on  all  sides  encircled  with 
fruitful  mountains,  without  any  cause,  unless  it  were  divine, 
began  visibly  to  rise  and  swell,  increasing  to  the  feet  of  the 
mountains,  and  by  degrees  reaching  the  level  of  the  very  tops 
of  them,  and  all  this  without  any  waves  or  agitation.  At  first 
it  was  the  wonder  of  shepherds  and  herdsmen  ; but  when  the 
earth,  which,  like  a great  dam,  held  up  the  lake  from  falling 
into  the  lower  grounds,  through  the  quantity  and  weight  of 
water  was  broken  down,  and  in  a violent  stream  it  ran  through 
the  ploughed  fields  and  plantations  to  discharge  itself  in  the 
sea,  it  not  only  struck  terror  into  the  Romans,  but  was 
thought  by  all  the  inhabitants  of  Italy  to  portend  some  ex- 
traordinary event.  But  the  greatest  talk  of  it  was  in  the 
camp  that  besieged  Veii,  so  that  in  the  town  itself,  also,  the 
occurrence  became  known. 

As  in  long  sieges  it  commonly  happens  that  parties  on 
both  sides  meet  often  and  converse  with  one  another,  so  it 
chanced  that  a Roman  had  gained  much  confidence  and  fa- 
miliarity with  one  of  the  besieged,  a man  versed  in  ancient 
prophecies,  and  of  repute  for  more  than  ordinary  skill  in 
divination.  The  Roman,  observing  him  to  be  overjoyed  at 
the  story  of  the  lake,  and  to  mock  at  the  siege,  told  him  that 
this  was  not  the  only  prodigy  that  of  late  had  happened  to 
the  Romans ; others  more  wonderful  yet  than  this  had  be- 
fallen them,  which  he  was  willing  to  communicate  to  him, 
that  he  might  the  better  provide  for  his  private  interests  in 
these  public  distempers.  The  man  greedily  embraced  the 
proposal,  expecting  to  hear  some  wonderful  secrets ; but 
when,  by  little  and  little,  he  had  led  him  on  in  conversation 
and  insensibly  drawn  him  a good  way  from  the  gates  of  the 
city,  he  snatched  him  up  by  the  middle,  being  stronger  than 
he,  and,  by  the  assistance  of  others  that  came  running  from 
the  camp,  seized  and  delivered  him  to  the  commanders.  The 
man,  reduced  to  this  necessity,  and  sensible  now  that  destiny 
was  not  to  be  avoided,  discovered  to  them  the  secret  oracles 
of  Veii ; that  it  was  not  possible  the  city  should  be  taken, 
until  the  Alban  lake,  which  now  broke  forth  and  had  found 
out  new  passages,  was  drawn  back  from  that  course,  and  so 
diverted  that  it  could  not  mingle  with  the  sea.  The  senate, 
having  heard  and  satisfied  themselves  about  the  matter,  de- 
creed to  send  to  Delphi,  to  ask  counsel  of  the  god.  The 
messengers  were  persons  of  the  highest  repute,  Liciniua 


202 


CAMILLirS. 


Cossus,  Valerius  Potitus,  and  Fabius  Ambustus  ; who,  having 
made  their  voyage  by  sea  and  consulted  the  god,  returned 
with  other  answers,  particularly  that  there  had  been  a neglect 
of  some  of  their  national  rites  relating  to  the  Latin  feasts ; 
but  the  Alban  water  the  oracle  commanded,  if  it  were  possi- 
ble, they  should  keep  from  the  sea,  and  shut  it  up  in  its  an-' 
cient  bounds;  but  if  that  was  not  to  be  done,  then  they  should 
carry  it  off  by  ditches  and  trenches  into  the  lower  grounds 
and  so  dry  it  up  ; which  message  being  delivered,  the  priests 
performed  what  related  to  the  sacrifices,  and  the  people  went 
to  work  and  turned  the  water. 

And  now  the  senate,  in  the  tenth  year  of  the  war,  taking 
away  all  other  commands,  created  Camillus  dictator,  who 
chose  Cornelius  Scipio  for  his  general  of  horse.  And  in  the 
first  place  he  made  vows  unto  the  gods,  that,  if  they  would 
grant  a happy  conclusion  of  the  war,  he  would  celebrate  to 
their  honor  the  great  games,  and  dedicate  a temple  to  the 
goddess  whom  the  Romans  call  Matuta,  the  Mother,  though, 
from  the  ceremonies  which  are  used,  one  would  think  she  was 
Leucothea.  For  they  take  a servant-maid  into  the  secret 
part  of  the  temple,  and  there  cuff  her,  and  drive  her  out  again, 
and  they  embrace  their  brothers’  children  in  place  of  their 
own  ; and,  in  general,  the  ceremonies  of  the  sacrifice  remind 
one  of  the  nursing  of  Bacchus  by  Ino,  and  the  calamities 
occasioned  by  her  husband’s  concubine.  Camillus,  having 
made  these  vows,  marched  into  the  country  of  the  Faliscans, 
and  in  a great  battle  overthrew  them  and  the  Capenates, 
their  confederates  ; afterwards  he  turned  to  the  siege  of  Veii, 
and,  finding  that  to  take  it  by  assault  would  prove  a difficult 
and  hazardous  attempt,  proceeded  to  cut  mines  under  ground, 
the  earth  about  the  city  being  easy  to  break  up,  and  allowing 
such  depth  for  the  works  as  would  prevent  their  being  dis- 
covered by  the  enemy.  This  design  going  on  in  a hopeful 
way,  he  openly  gave  assaults  to  the  enemy,  to  keep  them  to 
the  walls,  whilst  they  that  worked  underground  in  the  mines 
were,  without  being  perceived,  arrived  within  the  citadel,  close 
to  the  temple  of  Juno,  which  was  the  greatest  and  most  hon- 
ored in  all  the  city.  It  is  said  that  the  prince  of  the  Tuscans 
was  at  that  very  time  at  sacrifice,  and  that  the  priest,  after  he 
had  looked  into  the  entrails  of  the  beast,  cried  out  with  a loud 
voice  that  the  gods  would  give  the  victory  to  those  that  should 
complete  those  offerings ; and  that  the  Romans  who  were  in 
the  mines  hearing  the  words,  immediately  pulled  down  the 
floor,  and,  ascending  with  noise  and  clashing  of  weapons, 


CAMILLUS. 


203 


frighted  away  the  enemy,  and,  snatching  up  the  entrails,  car- 
ried them  to  Camillus.  But  this  may  look  like  a fable  The 
citv,  however,  being  taking  by  storm,  and  the  soldiers,  busied 
in  pillaging  and  gathering  an  infinite  quantity  of  riches  and 
spoil,  Camillus,  from  the  high  tower,  viewing  what  was  done, 
at  first  wept  for  pity  ; and  when  they  that  were  by  congratu 
lated  his  success,  he  lifted  up  his  hands  to  heaven,  and  broke 
out  into  this  ])rayer:  “ O most  mighty  Jupiter,  and  ye  gods 
that  are  judges  of  good  and  evil  actions,  ye  know  that  not 
without  just  cause,  but  constrained  by  necessity,  we  have  been 
forced  to  revenge  ourselves  on  the  city  of  our  unrighteous 
and  wicked  enemies.  But  if,  in  the  vicissitude  of  things, 
there  may  be  any  calamity  due,  to  counterbalance  this  great 
felicity,  I beg  that  it  may  be  diverted  from  the  city  and  army 
of  the  Romans,  and  fall,  with  as  little  hurt  as  may  be,  upon 
my  own  head.”  Having  said  these  words,  and  just  turning 
about  (as  the  custom  of  the  Romans  is  to  turn  to  the  right 
after  adoration  or  prayer),  he  stumbled  and  fell,  to  the  aston- 
ishment of  all  that  were  present.  But,  recovering  himself 
presently  from  the  fall,  he  told  them  that  he  had  received 
what  he  had  prayed  for,  a small  mischance,  in  compensation 
for  the  greatest  good  fortune. 

Having  sacked  the  city,  he  resolved,  according  as  he  had 
vowed,  to  carry  Juno’s  image  to  Rome  ; and,  the  workmen 
being  ready  for  that  purpose,  he  sacrificed  to  the  goddess,  and 
made  his  supplications  that  she  would  be  pleased  to  accept 
of  their  devotion  toward  her,  and  graciously  vouchsafe  to  ao 
cept  of  a place  among  the  gods  that  presided  at  Rome  ; and 
the  statue,  they  say,  answered  in  a low  voice  that  she  was 
ready  and  willing  to  go.  Livy  writes,  that,  in  praying,  Camil- 
lus touched  the  goddess,  and  invited  her,  and  that  some  of  the 
standers-by  cried  out  that  she  was  willing  and  would  come. 
They  who  stand  up  for  the  miracle  and  endeavor  to  maintain  it, 
have  one  great  advocate  on  their  side  in  the  wonderful  for- 
tune of  the  city,  which,  from  a small  and  contemptible  begin- 
ning, could  never  have  attained  to  that  greatness  and  power 
without  many  signal  manifestations  of  the  divine  presence 
and  cooperation.  Other  wonders  of  the  like  nature,  drops  of 
sweat  seen  to  stand  on  statues,  groans  heard  from  them,  the 
figures  seen  to  turn  round  and  to  close  their  eyes,  are  recorded 
by  many  ancient  historians  ; and  we  ourselves  could  relate 
divers  wonderful  things,  which  we  have  been  told  by  men  of 
our  own  time,  that  are  not  lightly  to  be  rejected  ; but  to  give 
too  easy  credit  to  such  things,  or  wholly  to  disbelieve  them. 


CAMILLUS. 


^04 

is  equally  dangerous,  so  incapable  is  human  infirmity  of  keep- 
ing any  bounds,  or  exercising  command  over  itself,  running 
off  sometimes  to  superstition  and  dotage,  at  other  times  to 
the  contempt  and  neglect  of  all  that  is  supernatural.  But 
moderation  is  best,  and  to  avoid  all  extremes. 

Camillus,  however,  whether  puffed  up  with  the  greatness 
of  his  achievement  in  conquering  a city  that  was  the  rival  of 
Rome,  and  had  held  out  a ten  years’  siege,  or  exalted  with 
the  felicitations  of  those  that  were  about  him,  assumed  to 
himself  more  than  became  a civil  and  legal  magistrate ; among 
other  things,  in  the  pride  and  haughtiness  of  his  triumph, 
driving  through  Rome  in  a chariot  drawn  with  four  white 
horses,  which  no  general  either  before  or  since  ever  did  ; for 
the  Romans  consider  such  a mode  of  conveyance  to  be  sacred, 
and  specially  set  apart  to  the  king  and  father  of  the  gods. 
This  alienated  the  hearts  of  his  fellow-citizens,  who  were  not 
accustomed  to  such  pomp  and  display. 

The  second  pique  they  had  against  him  was  his  opposing 
the  law  by  which  the  city  was  to  be  divided  ; for  the  tribunes 
of  the  people  brought  forward  a motion  that  the  people  and 
senate  should  be  divided  into  two  parts,  one  of  which  should 
remain  at  home,  the  other,  as  the  lot  should  decide,  remove 
to  the  new-taken  city.  By  which  means  they  should  not  only 
have  much  more  room,  but,  by  the  advantage  of  two  great 
and  magnificent  cities,  be  better  able  to  maintain  their  terri- 
tories and  their  fortunes  in  general.  The  people,  therefore, 
who  were  numerous  and  indigent,  greedily  embraced  it,  and 
crowded  continually  to  the  forum,  with  tumultuous  demands 
to  have  it  put  to  the  vote.  But  the  senate  and  the  noblest 
citizens,  judging  the  proceedings  of  the  tribunes  to  tend 
rather  to  a destruction  than  a division  of  Rome,  greatly 
averse  to  it,  went  to  Camillus  for  assistance,  who,  fearing  the 
result  if  it  came  to  a direct  contest,  contrived  to  occupy  the 
people  with  other  business,  and  so  staved  it  off.  He  thus 
became  unpopular.  But  the  greatest  and  most  apparent 
cause  of  their  dislike  against  him  arose  from  the  tenths  of  the 
spoil ; the  multitude  having  here,  if  not  a just,  yet  a plausible 
case  against  him.  For  it  seems,  as  he  went  to  the  siege  of 
Veii,  he  had  vowed  to  Apollo  that  if  he  took  the  city  he  would 
dedicate  to  him  the  tenth  of  the  spoil.  The  city  being  taken 
and  sacked,  whether  he  was  loath  to  trouble  the  soldiers  at 
that  time,  or  that  through  the  multitude  of  business  he  had 
forgotten  his  vow,  he  suffered  them  to  enjoy  that  part  of  the 
spoils  also.  Some  time  afterwards,  when  his  authority  was 


CAMILLUS. 


2 OS 

laid  down,  he  brought  the  matter  before  the  senate,  and  the 
priests,  at  the  same  time,  reported,  out  of  the  sacrifices,  that 
there  were  intimations  of  divine  angei,  requiring  propitiations 
and  offerings.  The  senate  decreed  the  obligation  to  be  in 
force. 

But  seeing  it  was  difficult  for  every  one  to  produce  the 
very  same  things  they  had  taken,  to  be  divided  anew,  they 
ordained  that  every  one  upon  oath  should  bring  into  the  pub- 
lic the  tenth  part  of  his  gains.  This  occasioned  many  annoy- 
ances and  hardships  to  the  soldiers,  who  were  poor  men,  and 
had  endured  much  in  the  war,  and  now  were  forced,  out  of 
what  they  had  gained  and  spent,  to  bring  in  so  great  a propor- 
tion. Camillus,  being  assaulted  by  their  clamor  and  tumults, 
for  want  of  a better  excuse,  betook  himself  to  the  poorest  of 
defences,  confessing  he  had  forgotten  his  vow  ; they  in  turn 
complained  that  he  had  vowed  the  tenth  of  the  enemy^s  goods, 
and  now  levied  it  out  of  the  tenth  of  the  citizens.  Neverthe- 
less, every  one  having  brought  in  his  due  proportion,  it  was  de- 
creed that  out  of  it  a bowl  of  massy  gold  should  be  made,  and 
sent  to  Delphi.  And  when  there  was  great  scarcity  of  gold  in 
the  city,  and  the  magistrates  were  considering  where  to  get  it, 
the  Roman  ladies,  meeting  together  and  consulting  among  them- 
selves, out  of  the  golden  ornaments  they  wore  contributed  as 
much  as  went  to  the  making  the  offering,  which  in  weight 
came  to  eight  talents  of  gold.  The  senate,  to  give  them  the 
honor  they  had  deserved,  ordained  that  funeral  orations 
should  be  used  at  the  obsequies  of  women  as  well  as  men,  it 
having  never  before  been  a custom  that  any  woman  after 
death  should  receive  any  public  eulogy.  Choosing  out,  there- 
fore, three  of  the  noblest  citizens  as  a deputation,  they  sent 
them  in  a vessel  of  war,  well  manned  and  sumptuously  adorn- 
ed. Storm  and  calm  at  sea  may  both,  they  say,  alike  be  dan- 
gerous ; as  they  at  this  time  experienced,  being  brought  al- 
most to  the  very  brink  of  destruction,  and,  beyond  all  expecta- 
tion, escaping.  For  near  the  isles  of  ^olus  the  wind  slacking, 
galleys  of  the  Lipareans  came  upon  them,  taking  them  for 
pirates  ; and,  when  they  held  up  their  hands  as  suppliants, 
forbore  indeed  from  violence,  but  took  their  ship  in  tow,  and 
carried  her  into  the  harbor,  where  they  exposed  to  sale  their 
goods  and  persons  as  lawful  prize,  they  being  pirates ; and 
scarcely,  at  last,  by  the  virtue  and  interest  of  one  man,  Tim- 
asitheus  by  name,  who  was  in  office  as  general,  and  used  his 
utmost  persuasion,  they  were,  with  much  ado,  dismissed.  He, 
however,  himself  sent  out  some  of  his  own  vessels  with  them, 


2o6 


CAMILLUS. 


to  accompany  them  in  their  voyage  and  assist  them  at  the 
dedication ; for  which  he  received  honors  at  Rome,  as  he  had 
deserved. 

And  now  the  tribunes  of  the  people  again  resuming  their 
motion  for  the  division  of  the  city,  the  war  against  the  Falis- 
cans  luckily  broke  out,  giving  liberty  to  the  chief  citizens  to 
choose  what  magistrates  they  pleased,  and  to  appoint  Camil» 
jus  military  tribune,  with  five  colleagues  ; affairs  fhen  requit- 
ing a commander  of  authority  and  reputation,  as  well  as  a v 
perience.  And  when  the  people  had  ratified  the  election,  he 
marched  with  his  forces  into  the  territories  of  the  Faliscans, 
and  laid  siege  to  Falerii,  a well-fortified  city,  and  plentifully 
stored  with  all  necessaries  of  war.  And  although  he  perceived 
it  would  be  no  small  work  to  take  it,  and  no  little  time  would 
be  required  for  it,  yet  he  was  willing  to  exercise  the  citizens 
and  keep  them  abroad,  that  they  might  have  no  leisure,  idling 
at  home,  to  follow  the  tribunes  in  factions  and  seditions ; a 
very  common  remedy,  indeed,  with  the  Romans,  who  thus 
carried  off,  like  good  physicians,  the  ill  humors  of  their  com- 
monwealth. The  Falerians,  trusting  in  the  strength  of  their 
city,  which  was  well  fortified  on  all  sides,  made  so  little  ac- 
count of  the  siege,  that  all,  with  the  exception  of  those  that 
guarded  the  walls,  as  in  times  of  peace,  walked  about  the 
streets  in  their  common  dress  ; the  boys  went  to  school,  and 
were  led  by  their  master  to  play  and  exercise  about  the  towm 
walls  ; for  the  Falerians,  like  the  Greeks,  used  to  have  a 
single  teacher  for  many  pupils,  wishing  their  children  to  live 
and  be  brought  up  from  the  beginning  in  each  other^s  com- 
pany. 

This  schoolmaster,  designing  to  betray  the  Falerians  by 
their  children,  led  them  out  every  day  under  the  towm  wall, 
at  first  but  a little  way,  and,  when  they  had  exercised,  brought 
:hem  home  again.  Afterwards  by  degrees  he  drew  them  far- 
ther and  farther,  tili  by  practice  he  had  made  them  bold  and 
fearless,  as  if  no  danger  was  about  them ; and  at  last,  having 
got  them  all  together,  he  brought  them  to  the  outposts  of  the 
Romans,  and  delivered  them  up,  demanding  to  be  led  to 
Camillus.  Where  being  come,  and  standing  in  the  middle, 
he  said  that  he  was  the  master  and  teacher  of  these  children, 
but  preferring  his  favor  before  all  other  obligations,  he  was 
come  to  deliver  up  his  charge  to  him,  and,  in  that,  the  whole 
city.  When  Camillus  had  heard  him  out,  he  was  astounded 
at  the  treachery  of  the  act,  and,  turning  to  the  standers-by, 
observed,  that  “ war,  indeed,  is  of  necessity  attended  with 
much  injustice  and  violence  I Certain  laws,  however,  all  good 


CAMILLUS. 


207 


men  observe  even  in  war  itself,  nor  is  victory  so  great  an  ob- 
ject as  to  induce  us  to  incur  for  its  sake  obligations  for  base 
and  impious  acts.  A great  general  should  rely  on  his  own 
virtue,  and  not  on  other  men’s  vices.”  Which  said,  he  com- 
manded the  officers  to  tear  off  the  man’s  clothes,  and  bind 
his  hands  behind  him,  and  give  the  boys  rods  and  scourges, 
to  punish  the  traitor  and  drive  him  back  to  the  city.  By  this 
time  the  Falerians  had  discovered  the  treachery  of  the  schooi- 
master,  and  the  city,  as  was  likely,  was  full  of  lamentations 
and  cries  for  their  calarnity,  men  and  women  of  worth  running 
in  distraction  about  the  walls  and  gates  ; when,  behold,  the 
boys  came  whipping  their  master  on,  naked  and  bound,  call- 
ing Camillus  their  preserver  and  god  and  father.  Insomuch 
that  it  struck  not  only  into  the  parents,  but  the  rest  of  the 
citizens  that  saw  what  was  done,  such  admiration  and  love  of 
Camillus’s  justice,  that,  immediately  meeting  in  assembly,  they 
sent  ambassadors  to  him,  to  resign  whatever  they  had  to  his 
disposal.  Camillus  sent  them  to  Rome,  where,  being  brought 
into  the  senate,  they  spoke  to  this  purpose  : that  the  Romans, 
preferring  justice  before  victory,  had  taught  them  rather  to 
embrace  submission  than  liberty  ; they  did  not  so  much  con- 
fess themselves  to  be  inferior  in  strength,  as  they  must  ac- 
knowledge them  to  be  superior  in  virtue.  The  senate  remit- 
ted the  whole  matter  to  Camillus,  to  judge  and  order  as  he 
thought  fit ; who,  taking  a sum  of  money  of  the  Falerians, 
and,  making  a peace  with  the  whole  nation  of  the  Faliscans, 
returned  home. 

But  the  soldiers,  who  had  expected  to  have  the  pillage  cf 
the  city,  when  they  came  to  Rome  empty-handed,  railed 
against  Camillus  among  their  fellow-citizens,  as  a hater  of  the 
people,  and  one  that  grudged  all  advantage  to  the  poor.  Af- 
terwards, when  the  tribunes  of  the  people  again  brought  their 
motion  for  dividing  the  city  to  the  vote,  Camillus  appeared 
openly  against  it,  shrinking  from  no  unpopularity,  and  inveigh- 
ing boldly  against  the  promoters  of  it,  and  so  urging  and  con- 
, straining  the  multitude,  that,  contrary  to  their  inclinations, 

' tliey  rejected  the  proposal  ; but  yet  hated  Camillus.  Insomuch 
that  though  a great  misfortune  befell  him  in  his  family  (one 
of  his  two  sons  dying  of  a disease),  commiseration  for  this 
could  not  in  the  least  make  them  abate  of  their  malice.  And, 
indeed,  he  took  this  loss  with  immoderate  sorrow,  being  a 
man  naturally  of  a mild  and  tender  disposition,  and,  when 
the  accusation  was  preferred  against  him,  kept  his  house,  and 
mourned  amongst  the  women  of  his  family. 


2o8 


CAMILLUS. 


His  accuser  was  Lucius  Apuleius  ; the  charge,  appropria- 
tion of  the  Tuscan  spoils  ; certain  brass  gates,  part  of  those 
spoils,  were  said  to  be  in  his  possession.  The  people  were 
exasperated  against  him,  and  it  was  plain  they  would  take 
hold  of  any  occasion  to  condemn  him.  Gathering,  therefore, 
together  his  friends  and  fellow-soldiers,  and  such  as  had  borne 
command  with  him,  a considerable  number  in  all,  he  besought 
them  that  they  would  not  suffer  him  to  be  unjustly  overborne 
by  shameful  accusations,  and  left  the  mock  and  scorn  of  his 
enemies.  His  friends,  having  advised  and  consulted  among 
themselves,  made  answer,  that,  as  to  the  sentence,  they  did 
not  see  how  they  could  help  him,  but  that  they  would  contrib- 
ute to  whatsoever  fine  should  be  set  upon  him.  Not  able  to 
endure  so  great  an  indignity,  he  resolved,  in  his  anger,  to 
leave  the  city  and  go  into  exile ; and  so,  having  taken  leave 
of  his  wife  and  his  son,  he  went  silently  to  the  gate  of  the 
city,  and,  there  stopping  and  turning  round,  stretched  out  his 
hands  to  the  Capitol,  and  prayed  to  the  gods,  that  if,  without 
any  fault  of  his  own,  but  merely  through  the  malice  and  vio- 
lence of  the  people,  he  was  driven  out  into  banishment,  the 
Romans  might  quickly  repent  of  it ; and  that  all  mankind 
might  witness  their  need  for  the  assistance,  and  desire  for  the 
return  of  Camillus. 

Thus,  like  Achilles,  having  left  his  imprecations  on  the 
citizens,  he  went  into  banishment ; so  that,  neither  appearing 
nor  making  defence,  he  was  condemned  in  the  sum  of  fifteen 
thousand  asses,  which,  reduced  to  silver,  makes  one  thousand 
five  hundred  drachmas  ; for  the  as  was  the  money  of  the  time, 
ten  of  such  copper  pieces  making  the  denarius,  or  piece  of 
ten.  And  there  is  not  a Roman  but  believes  that  immediate- 
ly upon  the  prayers  of  Camillus,  a sudden  judgment  followed, 
and  that  he  received  a revenge  for  the  injustice  done  unto 
him  ; which  though  we  cannot  think  was  pleasant,  but  raiher 
grievous  and  bitter  to  him,  yet  was  very  remarkable,  and 
noised  over  the  whole  world  ; such  a punishment  visited  the 
city  of  Rome,  an  era  of  such  loss  and  danger  and  disgrace  so 
quickly  succeeded  ; whether  it  thus  fell  out  by  fortune,  cr  it 
be  the  office  of  some  god  not  to  see  injured  virtue  go  un- 
avenged. 

The  first  token  that  seemed  to  threaten  some  mischief  to 
ensue  was  the  death  of  the  censor  Julius  ; for  the  Romans 
have  a religious  reverence  for  the  office  of  a censor,  and  es- 
teem it  sacred.  The  second  was,  that,  just  before  Camillus 
went  into  exile,  Marcus  Caedicius,  a person  of  no  great  dis* 


CAMILLUS. 


*209 


tinction,  nor  of  the  rank  of  senator,  but  esteemed  a good  and 
respectable  man,  reported  to  the  military  tribunes  a thing 
worthy  their  consideration  : that,  going  along  the  night  before 
in  the  street  called  the  New  Way,  and  being  called  by  some 
body  in  a loud  voice,  he  turned  about,  but  could  see  no  one, 
but  heard  a voice  greater  than  human,  which  said  these  words, 
Go,  Marcus  Caedicius,  and  early  in  the  morning  tell  the  mili- 
tary tribunes  that  they  are  shortly  to  expect  the  Gauls. But 
the  tribunes  made  a mock  and  sport  with  the  story,  and  a 
little  after  came  Camillus’s  banishment. 

The  Gauls  are  of  the  Celtic  race,  and  are  reported  to  have 
been  compelled  by  their  numbers  to  leave  their  country,  which 
was  insufficient  to  sustain  them  all,  and  to  have  gone  in  search 
of  other  homes.  And  being,  many  thousands  of  them,  young 
men  and  able  to  bear  arms,  and  carrying  jvith  them  a still 
greater  number  of  women  and  young  children,  some  of  them, 
passing  the  Riphaean  mountains,  fell  upon  the  Northern 
Ocean,  and  possessed  themselves  of  the  farthest  parts  of  Eu- 
rope ; others,  seating  themselves  between  the  Pyrenean  moun- 
tains and  the  Alps,  lived  there  a considerable  time,  near  to 
the  Senones  and  Celtorii ; but,  afterwards  tasting  wine  which 
was  then  first  brought  them  out  of  Italy,  they  were  all  so  much 
taken  with  the  liquor,  and  transported  with  the  hitherto  un- 
known delight,  that,  snatching  up  their  arms  and  taking  their 
families  along  with  them,  they  marched  directly  to  the  Alps, 
to.  find  out  the  country  which  yielded  such  fruit,  pronouncing 
all  others  barren  and  useless.  He  that  first  brought  wine 
among  them  and  was  the  chief  instigator  of  their  coming  into 
Italy  is  said  to  have  been  one  Aruns,  a Tuscan,  a man  of  no- 
ble extraction,  and  not  of  bad  natural  character,  but  involved 
in  the  following  misfortune.  He  was  guardian  to  an  orphan, 
one  of  the  richest  of  the  country,  and  much  admired  for  his 
beauty,  whose  name  was  Lucumo.  From  his  childhood  he 
had  been  bred  up  with  Aruns  in  his  family,  and  when  now 
grown  up  did  not  leave  his  house,  professing  to  wish  for  the 
enjoyment  of  his  society.  And  thus  for  a great  while  he  se- 
cretly enjoyed  Aruns^s  wife,  corrupting  her,  and  himself  cor- 
rupted by  her.  But  when  they  were  both  so  far  gone  in  their 
passion  that  they  could  neither  refrain  their  lust  nor  conceal 
it,  the  young  man  seized  the  woman  and  openly  sought  to 
carry  her  away.  The  husband,  going  to  law,  and  finding  him- 
self overpowered  by  the  interest  and  money  of  his  opponent, 
left  his  country,  and,  hearing  of  the  state  of  the  Gauls,  went 
to  them,  and  was  the  conductor  of  their  expedition  into  Italy. 


210 


CAMILLUS. 


At  their  first  coming  they  at  once  possessed  themselves  of 
all  that  country  which  anciently  the  Tuscans  inhabited,  reach- 
ing from  the  Alps  to  both  the  seas,  as  the  names  themselves 
testify  ; for  the  North  or  Adriatic  Sea  is  named  from  the  Tus- 
can city  Adria,  and  that  to  the  south  the  Tuscan  Sea  simply 
The  whole  country  is  rich  in  fruit-trees,  has  excellent  pasture, 
and  is  well  watered  whth  rivers.  It  had  eighteen  large  ana 
beautiful  cities,  w^ell  provided  with  all  the  means  for  industry 
and  w'ealth,  and  all  the  enjoyments  and  pleasures  of  life.  The 
Gauls  cast  out  the  Tuscans,  and  seated  themselves  in  them. 
But  this  was  long  before. 

The  Gauls  at  this  time  v/ere  besieging  Clusium,  a Tuscan 
city.  The  Clusinians  sent  to  the  Romans  for  succor,  desiring 
them  to  interpose  with  the  barbarians  by  letters  and  ambas- 
sadors. There  were  sent  three  of  the  family  of  the  Fabii, 
persons  of  high  rank  and  distinction  in  the  city.  The  Gauls 
received  them  courteously,  from  respect  to  the  name  of  Rome, 
and,  giving  over  the  assault  which  was  then  making  upon  the 
W’alls,  came  to  conference  wdth  them  ; when  the  ambassadors 
asking  what  injury  they  had  received  of  the  Clusinians  that 
they  thus  invaded  their  city,  Brennus,  king  of  the  Gauls, 
laughed  and  made  answ’er,  The  Clusinians  do  us  injury,  in 
that,  being  able  only  to  till  a small  parcel  of  ground,  they 
must  needs  possess  a great  territory,  and  will  not  yield  any 
part  to  us  who  are  strangers,  many  in  number,  and  poor.  In 
the  same  nature,  O Romans,  formerly  the  Albans,  Fidenates, 
and  Ardeates,  and  now  lately  the  Veientines  and  Capenates, 
and  many  of  the  Faliscans  and  Volscians,  did  you  injury  ; 
upon  wFom  ye  make  war  if  they  do  not  yield  you  part  of  what 
they  possess,  make  slaves  of  them,  w^aste  and  spoil  their 
country,  and  ruin  their  cities  ; neither  in  so  doing  are  cruel 
or  unjust,  but  follow  that  most  ancient  of  all  laws,  which  gives 
the  possessions  of  the  feeble  to  the  strong  ; which  begins  with 
God  and  endsin  the  beasts  ; since  all  these,  by  nature,  seek  the 
stronger  to  have  advantage  over  the  weaker.  Cease,  therefore, 
to  pity  the  Clusinians  whom  we  besiege,  lest  ye  teach  the  Gauls 
to  be  kind  and  compassionate  to  those  that  are  oppressed  by 
you.”  By  this  answer  the  Romans,  perceiving  that  Brennus 
was  not  to  be  treated  with,  went  into  Clusium,  and  encouraged 
and  stirred  up  the  inhabitants  to  make  a sally  with  them  upon 
the  barbarians,  which  they  did  either  to  try  their  strength  or 
to  show  their  own.  The  sally  being  made,  and  the  fight  grow- 
ing hot  about  the  walls,  one  of  the  Fabii,  Quintus  Ambustus 
being  well  mounted,  and  setting  spurs  to  his  horse,  made  full 


CAMILLUS. 


211 


against  a Gaul,  a man  of  huge  bulk  and  stature,  whom  he 
saw  riding  out  at  a distance  from  the  rest.  At  the  first  he 
was  not  recognized,  through  the  quickness  of  the  conflict  and 
the  glittering  of  his  armor,  that  precluded  any  view  of  him  ; 
but  when  he  had  overthrown  the  Gaul,  and  was  going  to 
gather  the  spoils,  Brennus  knew  him  ; and,  invoking  the  gods 
to  be  witnesses,  that,  contrary  to  the  known  and  common  law 
of  nations,  which  is  holily  observed  by  all  mankind,  he  who 
had  come  as  an  ambassador  had  now  engaged  in  hostility 
against  him,  he  drew  off  his  men,  and  bidding  Clusium  fare- 
well, led  his  army  directly  to  Rome.  But  not  wishing  that  it 
should  look  as  if  they  took  advantage  of  that  injury,  and  were 
ready  to  embrace  any  occasion  of  quarrel,  he  sent  a herald 
to  demand  the  man  in  punishment,  and  in  the  mean  time 
marched  leisurely  on. 

The  senate  being  met  at  Rome,  among  many  others  that 
spoke  against  the  Fabii,  the  priests  called  fecials  were  the 
most  decided,  who,  on  the  religious  ground,  urged  the  senate 
that  they  should  lay  the  whole  guilt  and  penalty  of  the  fact 
upon  him  that  committed  it,  and  so  exonerate  the  rest.  These 
fecials  Numa  Pompilius,  the  mildest  and  iustest  of  kings, 
constituted  guardians  of  peace,  and  the  judges  and  deter- 
miners of  all  causes  by  which  war  may  justifiably  be  made. 
The  senate  referring  the  whole  matter  to  the  people,  and  the 
priests  there,  as  well  as  in  the  senate,  pleading  against  Fabius, 
the  multitude,  however,  so  little  regarded  their  authority,  that 
in  scorn  and  contempt  of  it  they  chose  Fabius  and  the  rest  of 
his  brothers  military  tribunes.  The  Gauls,  on  hearing  this, 
in  great  rage  threw  aside  every  delay,  and  hastened  on 
with  all  the  speed  they  could  make.  The  places  through 
which  they  marched,  terrified  wath  their  numbers  and  the 
splendor  of  their  preparations  for  war,  and  in  alarm  at  their 
violence  and  fierceness,  began  to  give  up  their  territories  as 
already  lost,  with  little  doubt  but  their  cities  would  quickly 
follow  ; contrary,  however,  to  expectation,  they  did  no  injury 
as  they  passed,  nor  took  any  thing  from  the  fields  ; and,  as 
they  went  by  any  city,  cried  out  that  they  were  going  to  Rome  ^ 
that  the  Romans  only  were  their  enemies,  and  that  they  took 
ail  ofners  for  their  friends. 

Whilst  the  barbarians  were  thus  hastening  with  all  speed, 
the  military  tribunes  brought  the  Romans  into  the  held  to  be 
ready  to  engage  them,  being  not  inferior  to  the  Gauls  in  nuim 
ber  (for  they  were  no  less  than  forty  thousand  foot),  but 
most  of  them  raw  soldiers,  and  such  as  had  never  handled  a 


212 


CAMILLUS. 


weapon  before.  Besides,  they  had  wholly  neglected  all  re- 
ligious usages,  had  not  obtained  favorable  sacrifices,  nor  made 
inquiries  of  the  prophets,  natural  in  danger  and  before  battle. 
No  less  did  the  multitude  of  commanders  distract  and  con- 
foutj  d their  proceedings ; frequently  before,  upon  less  occa- 
sions, they  had  chosen  a single  leader,  with  the  title  of  dicta- 
tor, being  sensible  of  what  great  importance  it  is  in  critical 
times  to  have  the  soldiers  united  under  one  general  with  the 
entire  an  absolute  control  placed  in  his  hands.  Add  to  all, 
the  remembrance  of  Camillus’s  treatment,  which  made  it  now 
seem  a dangerous  thing  for  officers  to  command  without  hu- 
moring their  soldiers.  In  this  condition  they  left  the  city,  and 
encamped  by  the  river  Allia,  about  ten  miles  from  Rome  ; 
and  not  far  from  the  place  where  it  falls  into  the  Tiber  ; and 
here  the  Gauls  came  upon  them,  and,  after  a disgraceful  re- 
sistance, devoid  of  order  and  discipline,  they  were  miserably 
defeated.  The  left  wing  was  immediately  driven  into  the 
river,  and  there  destroyed ; the  right  had  less  damage  by 
declining  the  shock,  and  from  the  low  grounds  getting  to  the 
tops  of  the  hills,  from  whence  most  of  them  afterwards 
dropped  into  the  city ; the  rest,  as  many  as  escaped,  the  enemy 
being  weary  of  the  slaughter,  stole  by  night  to  Veii,  giving 
up  Rome  and  all  that  was  in  it  for  lost. 

This  battle  was  fought  about  the  summer  solstice,  the 
moon  being  at  full,  the  very  same  day  in  which  the  sad  disas- 
ter of  the  Fabii  had  happened,  when  three  hundred  of  that 
name  were  at  one  time  cut  off  by  the  Tuscans.  But  from 
this  second  loss  and  defeat  the  day  got  the  name  of  Alliensis 
from  the  river  Allia,  and  still  retains  it.  The  question  of 
unlucky  days,  whether  we  should  consider  any  to  be  so,  and 
whether  Heraclitus  did  well  in  upbraiding  Hesiod  for  distin- 
guishing them  into  fortunate  and  unfortunate,  as  ignorant 
that  the  nature  of  every  day  is  the  same,  I have  examined 
in  another  place  ; but  upon  occasion  of  the  present  subject,  I 
think  it  will  not  be  amiss  to  annex  a few  examples  relating 
to  this  matter.  On  the  fifth  of  their  month  Hippodromius, 
which  corresponds  to  the  Athenian  Hecatombaeon,  the  Boeo- 
tians gained  two  signal  victories,  the  one  at  Leuctra,  the  other 
at  Ceressus,  about  three  hundred  years  before,  when  they 
overcame  Lattamyas  and  the  Thessalians,  both  which  asserted 
the  liberty  of  Greece.  Again,  on  the  Sixth  of  Boedromion, 
the  Persians  were  worsted  by  the  Greeks  at  Marathon  ; on 
the  third,  at  Platea,  as  also  at  Mycale  ; on  the  twenty-fifth, 
at  Arbela.  The  Athenians,  about  the  full  moon  in  Boedro* 


CAMILLUS. 


213 


mion,  gained  their  sea-victory  at  Naxos  under  the  conduct  of 
Chabfias  ; on  the  twentieth,  at  Salamis,  as  we  have  shown  in 
our  treatise  on  Days.  Thargelion  was  a very  unfortunate 
month  to  the  barbarians,  for  in  it  Alexander  overcame  Da- 
rius's generals  on  the  Granicus  ; and  the  Carthaginians,  on 
the  twenty-fourth,  were  beaten  by  Timoleon  in  Sicily,  on 
which  same  day  and  month  Troy  seems  to  have  be^n  taken, 
as  Ephorus,  Callisthenes,  Damastes,  and  Phylarchus  state.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  month  Metagitnion,  which  in  Boeotia  is 
called  Panemus,  was  not  very  lucky  to  the  Greeks  ; for  on  its 
seventh  day  they  were  defeated  by  Antipater,  at  the  battle  in 
Cranon,  and  utterly  ruined ; and  before,  at  Chccronea,  were 
defeated  by  Philip  ; and  on  the  very  same  day,  same  month, 
and  same  year,  those  that  went  with  Archidamus  into  Italy 
were  there  cut  off  by  the  barbarians.  The  Carthaginians  also 
observe  the  twenty-first  of  the  same  month,  as  bringing  with 
it  the  largest  number  and  the  severest  of  their  losses.  I am 
not  ignorant,  that,  about  the  Feast  of  Mysteries,  Thebes  was 
destroyed  the  second  time  by  Alexander ; and  after  that, 
upon  the  very  twentieth  of  Boedromion,  on  which  day  they 
lead  forth  the  mystic  lacchus,  the  Athenians  received  a gar- 
rison of  the  Macedonians.  On  the  selfsame  day  the  Romans 
lost  their  army  under  Caepio  by  the  Cimbrians,  and  in  a sub- 
sequent year,  under  the  conduct  of  Lucullus,  overcame  the 
Armenians  and  Tigranes.  King  Attains  and  Pompey  died 
both  on  their  birthdays.  One  could  reckon  up  several  that 
have  had  variety  of  fortune  on  the  same  day.  This  day, 
meantime,  is  one  of  the  unfortunate  ones  to  the  Romans,  and 
for  its  sake  two  others  in  every  month  ; fear  and  superstition 
as  the  custom  of  it  is,  more  and  more  prevailing.  But  I have 
discussed  this  more  accurately  in  my  Roman  Questions. 

And  now,  after  the  battle,  had  the  Gauls  immediately 
pursued  those  that  fled,  there  had  been  no  remedy  but  Rome 
must  have  wholly  been  ruined,  and  those  who  remained  in  it 
utterly  destroyed  ; such  was  the  terror  that  those  who  escaped 
the  battle  brought  with  them  into  the  city,  and  with  such  dis- 
traction and  confusion  were  themselves  in  turn  infected.  But 
the  Gauls,  not  imagining  their  victory  to  be  so  considerable, 
and  overtaken  with  the  present  joy,  fell  to  feasting  and  divid- 
ing the  spoil,  by  which  means  they  gave  leisure  to  those  who 
were  for  leaving  the  city  to  make  their  escape,  and  to  those  that 
remained,  to  anticipate  and  prepare  for  tl.eir  coming.  For  they 
who  resolved  to  stay  at  Rome,  abandoning  the  rest  of  the 
city,  betook  themselves,  to  the  Capitol,  which  they  fortified 


214 


CAMILLUS* 


with  the  help  of  missiles  and  new  woiks.  One  of  their  prin 
cipal  cares  was  of  their  holy  things,  most  of  which  they  com 
veyed  into  the  Capitol.  But  the  consecrated  fire  the  vestal 
virgins  took,  and  fled  with  it,  as  likewise  their  other  sacred 
things.  Some  write  that  they  have  nothing  in  their  charge 
but  the  ever-living  fire  which  Numa  had  ordained  to  be  wor- 
shipped as  the  principle  of  all  things  ; for  fire  is  the  most 
active  thing  in  nature,  and  all  production  is  either  motion,  or 
attended  with  motion  ; all  the  other  parts  of  matter,  so  long 
as  they  are  without  w^armth,  lie  sluggish  and  dead,  and  re- 
quire the  accession  of  a sort  of  soul  or  vitality  in  the  princi- 
ple of  heat ; and  upon  that  accession,  in  whatever  way,  im- 
mediately receive  a capacity  either  of  acting  or  being  acted 
upon.  And  thus  Numa,  a man  curious  in  such  things,  and 
whose  wisdom  made  it  thought  that  he  conversed  with  the 
Muses,  consecrated  fire,  and  ordained  it  to  be  kept  ever 
burning,  as  an  image  of  that  eternal  power  which  orders  and 
actuates  all  things.  Others  say  that  this  fire  was  kept  burn- 
ing in  front  of  the  holy  things,  as  in  Greece,  for  purification, 
and  that  there  were  other  things  hid  in  the  most  secret  part 
of  the  temple,  which  were  kept  from  the  view  of  all,  except 
those  virgins  whom  they  call  vestals.  The  most  common 
opinion  was,  that  the  image  of  Pallas,  brought  into  Italy  by 
^neas,  was  laid  up  there ; others  say  that  the  Samothracian 
images  lay  there,  telling  a story  how  that  Dardanus  carried 
them  to  Troy,  and,  when  he  had  built  the  city,  celebrated 
those  rites,  and  dedicated  those  images  there  ; that  after 
Troy  was  taken,  ^neas  stole  them  away,  and  kept  them  till 
his  coming  into  Italy.  But  they  who  profess  to  know  more 
of  the  matter  affirm  that  there  are  two  barrels,  not  of  any 
great  size,  one  of  which  stands  open  and  has  nothing  in  it, 
the  other  full  and  sealed  up  ; but  that  neither  of  them  may 
be  seen  but  by  the  most  holy  virgins.  Others  think  that 
ihey  who  say  this  are  misled  by  the  fact  that  the  virgins  put 
most  of  their  holy  things  into  two  barrels  at  this  time  of  the 
Gaulish  invasion,  and  hid  them  underground  in  the  temple 
of  Quirinus  ; and  that  from  hence  that  place  to  this  day  beari 
the  name  of  Barrels. 

However  it  be,  taking  the  most  precious  and  important 
things  they  had,  they  fled  away  with  them,  shaping  their 
course  along  the  river  side,  where  Lucius  Albinius,  a simple 
citizen  of  Rome,  who  among  others  was  making  his  escape, 
overtook  them,  having  his  wife,  children,  and  goods  in  a 
cart ; and,  seeing  the  virgins  dragging  along  in  their  arms 


CAMILLUS. 


215 


the  holy  things  of  the  gods,  iti  a helpless  and  weary  condi- 
tion, he  caused  his  wife  and  children  to  get  down,  and,  taking 
out  his  goods,  put  the  virgins  in  the  cart,  that  they  might 
make  their  escape  to  some  o^.the  Greek  cities.  This  devout 
act  of  Albinius,  and  the  respect  he  showed  thus  signally  to 
the  gods  at  a time  of  such  extremity,  deserved  not  to  be 
passed  over  in  silence.  But  the  priests  that  belonged  to 
other  gods,  and  the  most  elderly  of  the  senators,  men  who 
had  been  consuls  and  had  enjoyed  triumphs,  could  not  en- 
dure to  leave  the  city ; but,  putting  on  their  sacred  and  splen- 
did robes,  Fabius  the  high-priest  performing  the  office,  they 
made  their  prayers  to  the  gods,  and,  devoting  themselves,  as 
it  were,  for  their  country,  sate  themselves  down  in  their  ivory 
chairs  in  the  forum,  and  in  that  posture  expected  the  event. 

On  the  third  day  after  the  battle,  Brennus  appeared  with 
his  army  at  the  city,  and,  finding  the  gates  wide  open  and  no 
guards  upon  the  walls,  first  began  to  suspect  it  was  some  de- 
sign or  stratagem,  never  dreaming  that  the  Romans  were  in 
so  desperate  a condition.  But  when  he  found  it  to  be  so 
indeed,  he  entered  at  the  Colline  gate,  and  took  Rome,  in  the 
three  hundred  and  sixtieth  year,  or  a little  more,  after  it  was 
built ; if,  indeed,  it  can  be  supposed  probable  that  an  exact 
chronological  statement  has  been  preserved  of  events  which 
were  themselves  the  cause  of  chronological  difficulties  about 
things  of  later  date ; of  the  calamity  itself,  however,  and  of 
the  fact  of  the  capture,  some  faint  rumors  seem  to  have  passed 
at  the  time  into  Greece.  Heraclides  Ponticus,  who  lived 
not  long  after  these  times,  in  his  book  upon  the  Soul,  relates 
that  a certain  report  came  from  the  west,  that  an  army,  pro- 
ceeding from  the  Hyperboreans,  had  taken  a Greek  city 
called  Rome,  seated  somewhere  upon  the  great  sea.  But  I 
do  not  wonder  that  so  fabulous  and  high-flown  an  author  as 
Heraclides  should  embellish  the  truth  of  the  story  with  ex- 
pressions about  Hyperboreans  and  the  great  sea.  Aristotle 
the  philosopher  appears  to  have  heard  a correct  statement 
of  the  taking  of  the  city  by  the  Gauls,  but  he  calls  its  deliv- 
erer Lucius;  whereas  Camillus’s  surname  was  not  Lucius, 
but  Marcus.  But  this  is  a matter  of  conjecture. 

Brennus,  ha\  ing  taken  possession  of  Rome,  set  a strong 
guard  about  the  Capitol,  and,  going  himself  down  into  the 
forum,  was  there  struck  with  amazement  at  the  sight  of  so 
many  men  sitting  in  that  order  and  silence,  observing  that 
they  neither  rose  at  his  coming,  nor  so  much  as  changed 
color  or  countenance,  but  remained  without  fear  or  concern. 


2i6 


CAMILLUS. 


leaning  upon  their  staves,  and  sitting  quietly,  looking  at  each 
other.  The  Gauls,  for  a great  while,  stood  wondering  at  the 
strangeness  of  the  sight,  not  daring  to  approach  or  touch 
them,  taking  them  for  an  asserably  of  superior  beings.  But 
when  one,  bolder  than  the  rest,  drew  near  to  Marcus  Pa- 
pirius,  and  putting  forth  his  hand,  gently  touched  his  chin 
and  stroked  his  long  beard,  Papirius  with  his  staff  struck  him 
a severe  blow  on  the  head;  upon  which  the  barbarian  drew 
his  sword  and  slew  him.  This  was  the  introduction  to  the 
slaughter  ; for  the  rest,  following  his  example,  set  upon  them 
all  and  killed  them,  and  dispatched  all  others  that  came  in 
their  way;  and  so  went  on  to  the  sacking  and  pillaging  the 
houses,  which  they  continued  for  many  days  ensuing.  After- 
wards, they  burnt  them  down  to  the  ground  and  demolished 
them,  being  incensed  at  those  who  kept  the  Capitol,  because 
they  would  not  yield  to  summons  ; but,  on  the  contrary,  when 
assailed,  had  repelled  them,  with  some  loss,  from  their  de- 
fences. This  provoked  them  to  ruin  the  whole  city,  and  to 
put  to  the  sword  all  that  came  to  their  hands,  young  and  old, 
men,  women,  and  children. 

And  now,  the  siege  of  the  Capitol  having  lasted  a good 
while,  the  Gauls  began  to  be  in  want  of  provision  ; and  divid- 
ing their  forces,  part  of  them  stayed  with  their  king  at  the 
siege,  the  rest  went  to  forage  the  country,  ravaging  the  towns 
and  villages  where  they  came,  but  not  all  together  in  a body, 
but  in  different  squadrons  and  parties  ; and  to  such  a confi- 
dence had  success  raised  them,  that  they  carelessly  rambled 
about  without  the  least  fear  or  apprehension  of  danger.  But 
the  greatest  and  best  ordered  body  of  their  forces  went  to  the 
city  of  Ardea,  where  Camillus  then  sojourned,  having,  ever 
since  his  leaving  Rome,  sequestered  himself  from  all  business, 
and  taken  to  a private  life  ; but  now  he  began  to  rouse  up 
himself,  and  consider  not  how  to  avoid  or  escape  the  enemy, 
but  to  find  out  an  opportunity  to  be  revenged  upon  them. 
And  perceiving  that  the  Ardeatians  wanted  not  men,  but 
rather  enterprise,  through  the  inexperience  and  timidity  of 
their  officers,  he  began  to  speak  with  the  young  men,  first  to 
the  effect  that  they  ought  not  to  ascribe  the  misfortune  of  the 
Romans  to  the  courage  of  their  enemy,  nor  attribute  the  losses 
they  sustained  by  rash  counsel  to  the  conduct  of  men  who 
had  no  title  to  victory ; the  event  had  been  only  an  evidence 
of  the  power  of  fortune ; that  it  was  a brave  thing  even  with 
danger  to  repel  a foreign  and  barbarous  invader  whose  end 
in  conquering  was,  like  fire,  to  lay  waste  and  destroy,  but  U 


CAMILLUS. 


217 


they  would  be  courageous  and  resolute,  he  was  ready  to  put 
an  opportunity  into  their  hands  to  gain  a victory,  without 
hazard  at  all.  When  he  found  the  young  men  embraced  the 
thing,  he  went  to  the  magistrates  and  council  of  the  city,  and, 
having  persuaded  them  also,  he  mustered  all  that  could  bear 
arms,  and  drew  them  up  within  the  walls,  that  they  might 
not  be  perceived  by  the  enemy,  who  was  near ; who,  having 
scoured  the  country,  and  now  returned  heavy-laden  with  booty, 
lay  encamped  in  the  plains  in  a careless  and  negligent  posture, 
so  that,  with  the  night  ensuing  upon  debauch  and  drunken- 
ness, silence  prevailed  through  all  the  camp.  When  Camil- 
lus  learned  this  from  his  scouts,  he  drew  out  the  Ardeatians, 
and  in  the  dead  of  the  night,  passing  in  silence  over  the 
ground  that  lay  between,  came  up  to  their  works,  and,  com- 
manding his  trumpets  to  sound  and  his  men  to  shout  and 
halloo,  he  struck  terror  into  them  from  all  quarters  ; while 
drunkenness  impeded,  and  sleep  retarded  their  movements. 
A few,  whom  fear  had  sobered,  getting  into  some  order,  for  a 
while  resisted  ; and  so  died  with  their  weapons  in  their  hands. 
But  the  greatest  part  of  them,  buried  in  wine  and  sleep,  were 
surprised  without  their  arms,  and  despatched  ; and  as  many 
of  them  as  by  the  advantage  of  the  night  got  out  of  the  camp 
were  the  next  day  found  scattered  abroad  and  wandering 
in  the  fields,  and  were  picked  up  by  the  horse  that  pursued 
them. 

The  fame  of  this  action  soon  flew  through  the  neighbor- 
ing cities,  and  stirred  up  the  young  men  from  various  quarters 
to  come  and  join  themselves  with  him.  But  none  were  so 
much  concerned  as  those  Romans  who  escaped  in  the  battle 
of  Allia,  and  were  now  at  Veii,  thus  lamenting  with  them- 
selves, “ O heavens,  what  a commander  has  Providence  be- 
reaved Rome  of,  to  honor  Ardea  with  his  actions  ! And 
that  city,  which  brought  forth  and  nursed  so  great  a man,  is 
lost  and  gone,  and  we,  destitute  of  a leader  and  shut  up 
within  strange  walls,  sit  idle,  and  see  Italy  ruined  before  our 
eyes.  Come,  let  us  send  to  the  Ardeatians  to  have  back  our 
general,  or  else,  with  weapons  in  our  hands,  let  us  go  thither 
to  him  ; for  he  is  no  longer  a banished  man,  nor  we  citizens, 
having  no  country  but  what  is  in  the  possession  of  the  en- 
emy.’’ To  this  they  all  agreed,  and  sent  to  Camillus  to  de- 
siie  him  to  take  the  command  ; but  he  answered,  that  he 
would  not,  until  they  that  were  in  the  Capitol  should  legally 
appoint  him  ; for  he  esteemed  them,  as  long  as  they  were  in 
being,  to  be  his  country  ; that  if  they  should  command  him» 


2i8 


CAMILLUS. 


he  would  readily  obey  ; but  against  their  consent  he  would 
intermeddle  with  nothing.  When  this  answer  was  returned, 
they  admired  the  modesty  and  temper  of  Camillus  ; but  they 
could  not  tell  how  to  find  a messenger  to  carry  the  intelli- 
gence to  the  Capitol,  or  rather,  indeed,  it  seemed  altogether 
impossible  for  any  one  to  get  to  the  citadel  whilst  the  enemy 
was  in  full  possession  of  the  city.  But  among  the  young  men 
there  was  one  Pontius  Cominius,  of  ordinary  birth,  but  ambi- 
tious of  honor,  who  proffered  himself  to  run  the  hazard,  and 
took  no  letters  with  him  to  those  in  the  Capitol,  lest,  if  he 
were  intercepted,  the  enemy  might  learn  the  intentions  of 
Camillus  ; but,  putting  on  a poor  dress  and  carrying  corks 
under  it,  he  boldly  travelled  the  greatest  part  of  the  way  by  day, 
and  came  to  the  city  when  it  was  dark  ; the  bridge  he  could 
not  pass,  as  it  was  guarded  by  the  barbarians  ; so  that  taking 
his  clothes,  which  were  neither  many  nor  heavy,  and  binding 
them  about  his  head,  he  laid  his  body  upon  the  corks,  and 
swimming  with  them,  got  over  to  the  city.  And  avoiding 
those  quarters  where  he  perceived  the  enemy  was  awake, 
which  he  guessed  at  by  the  lights  and  noise,  he  went  to  the 
Carmental  gate,  where  there  was  greatest  silence,  and  where 
the  hill  of  the  Capitol  is  steepest,  and  rises  with  craggy  and 
broken  rock.  By  this  way  he  got  up,  though  with  much  dif- 
ficulty, by  the  hollow  of  the  cliff,  and  presented  himself  to 
the  guards,  saluting  them,  and  telling  them  his  name  ; he 
was  taken  in,  and  carried  to  the  commanders.  And  a sen- 
ate being  immediately  called,  he  related  to  them  in  order  the 
victory  of  Camillus,  which  they  had  not  heard  of  before,  and 
the  proceedings  of  the  soldiers,  urging  them  to  confirm  Ca- 
millus in  the  command,  as  on  him  alone  all  the.f  fellow- 
countrymen  outside  the  city  would  rely.  Having  heard  and 
consulted  of  the  matter,  the  senate  declared  Camillus  dictator, 
and  sent  back  Pontius  the  same  way  that  he  came,  who,  with 
the  same  success  as  before,  got  through  the  enemy  without 
being  discovered,  and  delivered  to  the  Romans  outside  the 
decision  of  the  senate,  who  joyfully  received  it.  Camillus, 
on  his  arrival,  found  twenty  thousand  of  them  ready  in  arms ; 
with  which  forces,  and  those  confederates  he  brought  along 
with  him,  he  prepared  to  set  upon  the  enemy. 

But  at  Rome  some  of  the  barbarians,  passing  by  chance 
near  the  place  at  which  Pontius  by  night  had  got  into  the 
Capitol,  spied  in  several  places  marks  of  feet  and  hands, 
where  he  had  laid  hold  and  clambered,  and  places  where  the 
plar  ts  that  grew  to  the  rock  had  been  rubbed  off,  and  tha 


CAM  ILL  US. 


2 ig 

earth  had  slipped,  and  went  accordingly  and  reported  it  to 
the  king,  who,  coming  in  person,  and  viewing  it,  for  the 
present  said  nothing,  but  in  the  evening,  picking  out  such  of 
the  Gauls  as  were  nimblest  of  body,  and  by  living  in  the 
mountains  were  accustomed  to  climb,  he  said  to  them,  The 
enemy  themselves  have ‘shown  us  a way  how  to  come  at 
them,  which  we  knew  not  of  before,  and  have  taught  us  that 
it  is  not  so  difficult  and  impossible  but  that  men  may  over- 
come it.  It  would  be  a great  shame,  having  begun  well,  to 
fail  in  the  end,  and  to  give  up  a place  as  impregnable,  when 
the  enemy  himself  lets  us  see  the  way  by  which  it  may  be 
taken  ; for  where  it  was  easy  for  one  man  to  get  up,  it  will 
not  be  hard  for  many,  one  after  another  ; nay,  when  many 
shall  undertake  it,  they  will  be  aid  and  strength  to  each 
other.  Rewards  and  honors  shall  be  bestowed  on  every  man 
as  he  shall  acquit  himself.^’ 

When  the  king  had  thus  spoken,  the  Gauls  cheerfully 
undertook  to  perform  it,  and  in  the  dead  of  night  a good 
party  of  them  together,  with  great  silence,  began  to  climb  the 
rock,  clinging  to  the  precipitous  and  difficult  ascent,  which 
yet  upon  trial  offered  a way  to  them,  and  proved  less  difficult 
than  they  had  expected.  So  that  the  foremost  of  them  having 
gained  the  top  of  all,  and  put  themselves  into  order,  they  all 
but  surprised  the  outworks,  and  mastered  the  watch,  who  were 
fast  asleep  ; for  neither  man  nor  dog  perceived  their  coming. 
But  there  were  sacred  geese  kept  near  the  temple  of  Juno, 
which  at  other  times  were  plentifully  fed,  but  now,  by  reason 
that  corn  and  other  provisions  were  grown  scarce  for  all, 
were  but  in  a poor  condition.  The  creature  is  by  nature  of 
quick  sense,  and  apprehensive  of  the  least  noise,  so  that 
these,  being  moreover  watchful  through  hunger,  and  restless, 
immediately  discovered  the  coming  of  the  Gauls,  and,  running 
up  and  down  with  their  noise  and  cackling,  they  raised  the 
whole  camp,  while  the  barbarians  on  the  other  side,  per- 
ceiving themselves  discovered,  no  longer  endeavored  to  con- 
ceal their  attempt,  but  with  shouting  and  violence  advanced 
to  the  assault.  The  Romans,  every  one  in  haste  snatching 
up  the  next  weapon  that  came  to  hand,  did  what  they  could 
on  the  sudden  occasion.  Manlius,  a man  of  consular  dignity, 
of  strong  body  and  great  spirit,  was  the  first  that  made  head 
against  them,  and,  engaging  with  two  of  the  ‘enemy  at  once, 
with  his  sword  cut  off  the  right  arm  of  one  just  as  he  was 
lifting  up  his  blade  to  strike,  and,  running  his  target  full  in 
the  face  of  the  other,  tumbled  him  headlong  down  the  steep 


220 


CAKILLUS. 


rock ; then  mounting  the  rampart,  and  there  stand  .ng  with 
others  that  came  running  to  his  assistance,  drove  down  the 
rest  of  them,  who,  indeed,  to  begin,  had  not  been  many,  and 
did  nothing  worthy  of  so  bold  an  attempt.  The  Romans, 
having  thus  escaped  this  danger,  early  in  the  morning  took 
the  captain  of  the  watch  and  flung  him  down  the  rock  upon 
the  heads  of  their  enemies,  and  to  Manlius  for  his  victory 
voted  a reward,  intended  more  for  honor  than  advantage, 
bringing  him,  each  man  of  them  as  much  as  he  received  for 
his  daily  allowance,  which  was  half  a pound  of  bread  and  one 
eighth  of  a pint  of  wine. 

Henceforward,  the  affairs  of  the  Gauls  were  daily  in  a 
worse  and  worse  condition  ; they  wanted  provisions,  being 
withheld  [rom  foraging  through  fear  of  Camillus,  and  sick- 
ness also  was  amongst  them,  occasioned  by  the  number  of 
carcasses  that  lay  in  heaps  unburied.  Being  lodged  among 
the  ruins,  the  ashes,  which  were  very  deep,  blown  about  by 
the  winds  and  combining  with  the  sultry  heats,  breathed  up, 
so  to  say,  a dry  and  searching  air,  the  inhalation  of  which 
was  destructive  to  their  health.  But  the  chief  cause  was  the 
change  from  their  natural  climate,  coming  as  they  did  out  of 
shady  and  hilly  countries,  abounding  in  means  of  shelter  from 
the  heat,  to  lodge  in  low,  and,  in  the  autumn  season,  very  un- 
healthy ground  ; added  to  which  was  the  length  and  tedious- 
ness of  the  siege,  as  they  had  now  sate  seven  months  before 
the  Capitol.  There  was,  therefore,  a great  destruction  among 
them,  and  the  number  of  the  dead  grew  so  great,  that  the 
living  gave  up  burying  them.  Neither,  indeed,  were  things 
on  that  account  any  better  with  the  besieged,  for  famine  in- 
creased upon  them,  and  despondency  with  not  hearing  any 
thing  of  Camillus,  it  being  impossible  to  send  any  one  to  him, 
the  city  was  so  guarded  by  the  barbarians.  Things  being  in 
this  sad  condition  on  both  sides,  a motion  of  treaty  was  made 
at  first  by  some  of  the  outposts,  as  they  happened  to  speak 
with  one  another  ; which  being  embraced  by  the  leading  men, 
Sulpicius,  tribune  of  the  Romans,  came  to  a parley  with  Bren- 
nus,  in  which  it  was  agreed,  that  the  Romans  laying  down  a 
thousand  weight  of  gold,  the  Gauls  upon  the  receipt  of  it  should 
immediately  quit  the  city  and  territories.  The  agreement 
being  confirmed  by  oath  on  both  sides,  and  the  gold  brought 
forth,  the  Gauls  used  false  dealing  in  the  weights,  secretly 
at  first,  but  afterwards  openly  pulled  back  and  disturbed  the 
balance ; at  which  the  Romans  indignantly  complaining, 
Brennus,  in  a scoffing  and  insulting  manner,  pulled  off  his 


CAMILLUS. 


221 


sword  and  belt,  and  threw  them  both  into  the  scales ; and 
when  Sulpicius  asked  what  that  meant,  “What  should  it 
mean,’’  says  he,  “ but  woe  to  the  conquered  ? ” which  after- 
wards became  a proverbial  saying.  As  for  the  Romans,  some 
were  so  incensed  that  they  were  for  taking  their  gold  back 
again  and  returning  to  endure  the  siege.  Others  were  for 
^ passing  by  and  dissembling  a petty  injury,  and  not  to  account 
that  the  indignity  of  the  thing  lay  in  paying  more  than  was 
due,  since  the  paying  any  thing  at  all  itself  a dishonor  only 
submitted  to  as  a necessity  of  the  times. 

Whilst  this  difference  remained  still  unsettled,  both 
amongst  themselves  and  with  the  Gauls,  Camillus  was  at  the 
gates  with  his  army ; and  having  learned  what  was  going  on, 
commanded  the  main  body  of  his  forces  to  follow  slowly 
. after  him  in  good  order,  and  himself  with  the  choicest  of  his 
men  hastening  on,  went  at  once  to  the  Romans ; where  all 
giving  way  to  him.  and  receiving  him  as  their  sole  magistrate, 
with  profound  silence  and  order,  he  took  the  gold  out  of  tlie 
scales,  and  delivered  it  to  his  officers,  and  commanded  the 
Gauls  to  take  their  weights  and  scales  and  depart ; saying 
that  it  was  customary  with  the  Romans  to  deliver  their 
country  with  iron,  not  with  gold.  And  when  Brennus  began 
to  rage,  and  say  that  he  was  unjustly  dealt  with  in  such  a 
breach  of  contract,  Camillus  answered  that  it  was  never  legally 
made,  and  the  agreement  of  no  force  or  obligation ; for  that 
himself  being  declared  dictator,  and  there  being  no  other 
magistrate  by  law,  the  engagement  had  been  made  with  men 
who  had  no  power  to  enter  into  it ; but  now  they  might  say  any 
thing  they  had  to  urge,  for  he  was  come  with  full  power  by 
law  to  grant  pardon  to  such  as  should  ask  it,  or  inflict  punish- 
ment on  the  guilty,  if  they  did  not  repent.  At  this,  Brennus 
broke  into  violent  anger,  and  an  immediate  quarrel  ensued  ; 
both  sides  drew  their  swords  and  attacked,  but  in  con- 
fusion, as  could  not  be  otherwise  amongst  houses,  and  in 
narrow  lanes  and  places  where  it  was  impossible  to  form  in 
any  order.  But  Brennus,  presently  recollecting  himself, 
called  off  his  men,  and,  with  the  loss  of  a few  only,  brought 
them  to  their  camp  ; and  rising  in  the  night  with  all  his  forces, 
left  the  city,  and,  advancing  about  eight  miles,  encamped 
upon  the  way  to  Gabii.  As  soon  as  day  appeared,  Camil- 
lus came  up  with  him,  splendidly  armed  himself,  and  his 
soldiers  full  of  courage  and  confidence  ; and  there  engaging 
with  him  in  a sharp  conflict,  which  lasted  a long  while,  over- 
threw his  army  with  great  slaughter,  and  took  their  camp 


222 


CAMILLUS. 


Of  those  that  fled,  some  were  presently  cut  off  by  the  pursuers  ; 
others,  and  these  was  the  greatest  number,  dispersed  hither 
and  thither,  and  were  despatched  by  the  people  that  came 
sallying  out  from  the  neighboring  towns  and  villages. 

Thus  Rome  was  strangely  taken,  and  more  strangely  re- 
covered, having  been  seven  whole  months  in  the  possession  of 
the  barbarians,  who  entered  her  a little  after  the  Ides  of  July, 
and  were  driven  out  about  the  Ides  of  February  following. 
Camillus  triumphed,  as  he  deserved,  having  saved  his  country 
that  was  lost,  and  brought  the  city,  so  to  say,  back  again  to 
itself.  For  those  that  had  fled  abroad,  together  with  their 
wives  and  children,  accompanied  him  as  he  rode  in  ; and 
those  who  had  been  shut  up  in  the  Capitol,  and  were  reduced 
almost  to  the  point  of  perishing  with  hunger,  went  out  to 
meet  him,  embracing  each  other  as  they  met,  and  weeping 
for  joy,  and,  through  the  excess  of  the  present  pleasure, 
scarce  believing  in  its  truth.  And  when  the  priests  and  min- 
isters of  the  gods  appeared  bearing  the  sacred  things,  which 
in  their  flight  they  had  either  hid  on  the  spot,  or  conveyed 
away  with  them,  and  now  openly  showed  in  safety,  the 
citizens  who  saw  the  blessed  sight  felt  as  if  with  these  the 
gods  themselves  were  again  returned  unto  Rome.  After 
Camillus  had  sacrificed  to  the  gods,  and  purified  the  city  ac- 
cording to  the  directions  of  those  properly  instructed,  he  re- 
stored the  existing  temples,  and  erected  a new  one  to  Rumour 
or  Voice,  informing  himself  of  the  spot  in  which  that  voice 
from  heaven  came  by  night  to  Marcus  Caedicius,  foretelling 
the  coming  of  the  barbarian  army. 

It  was  a matter  of  difficulty,  and  a hard  task,  amidst  so 
much  rubbish,  to  discover  and  re-determine  the  consecrated 
places  ; but  by  the  zeal  of  Camillus,  and  the  incessant  labor 
of  the  priests,  it  was  at  last  accomplished.  But  when  it  came 
also  to  rebuilding  the  city,  which  was  wholly  demolished, 
despondency  seized  the  multitude,  and  a backwardness  to 
engage  in  a work  for  which  they  had  no  materials  ; at  a time, 
too,  when  they  rather  needed  relief  and  repose  from  their 
oast  labors,  than  any  new  demands  upon  their  exhausted 
strength  and  impaired  fortunes.  Thus  insensibly  they  turned 
their  thoughts  again  towards  Veii,  a city  ready-built  and  well- 
provided,  and  gave  an  opening  to  the  arts  of  flatterers  eager  to 
gratify  their  desires,  and  lent  their  ears  to  seditious  language 
flung  out  against  Camillus  ; as  that,  out  of  ambition  and 
self-glory,  he  withheld  them  from  a city  fit  to  receive  them, 
forcing  them  to  live  in  the  midst  of  ruins,  and  to  re-erect  a 


CAMILLUS. 


223 


pile  of  burnt  rubbish,  that  he  might  be  esteemed  not  the  chief 
magistrate  only  and  general  of  Rome,  but,  to  the  exclusion 
of  Romulus,  its  founder  also.  The  senate,  therefore,  fearing 
a sedition,  would  not  suffer  Camillus,  though  desirous,  to  lay 
down  his  authority  within  the  year,  though  no  dictator  had 
ever  held  it  above  six  months. 

They  themselves,  meantime,  used  their  best  endeavors,  by 
kind  persuasions  and  familiar  addresses,  to  encourage  and  ap- 
pease the  people,  showing  them  the  shrines  and  tombs  of 
their  ancestors,  calling  to  their  remembrance  the  sacred  spots 
and  holy  places  which  Romulus  and  Numa  or  any  other  of 
their  kings  had  consecrated  and  left  to  their  keeping  ; and 
among  the  strongest  religious  arguments,  urged  the  head, 
newly  separated  from  the  body,  which  was  found  in  laying 
the  foundation  of  the  Capitol,  marking  it  as  a place  destined 
by  fate  to  be  the  head  of  all  Italy  ; and  the  holy  fire  which  had 
just  been  rekindled  again,  since  the  end  of  the  war,  by  the 
vestal  virgins ; “ What  a disgrace  it  would  be  to  them  to  lose 
and  extinguish  this,  leaving  the  city  it  belonged  to,  to  be 
either  inhabited  by  strangers  and  new-comers,  or  left  a wild 
pasture  for  cattle  to  graze  on } ” Such  reasons  as  these, 
urged  with  complaint  and  expostulation,  sometimes  in  private 
upon  individuals,  and  sometimes  in  their  public  assemblies, 
were  met,  on  the  other  hand,  by  laments  and  protestations 
of  distress  and  helplessness  ; entreaties,  that,  reunited  as  they 
just  were,  after  a sort  of  shipwreck,  naked  and  destitute,  they 
would  not  constrain  them  to  patch  up  the  pieces  of  a ruined 
and  shattered  city,  when  they  had  another  at  hand  ready- 
built  and  prepared. 

Camillus  thought  good  to  refer  it  to  general  deliberation, 
and  himself  spoke  largely  and  earnestly  in  behalf  of  his 
country,  as  also  many  others.  At  last,  calling  to  Lucius  Lu- 
cretius, whose  place  it  was  to  speak  first,  he  commanded  him 
to  give  his  sentence,  and  the  rest  as  they  followed,  in  order. 
Silence  being  made,  and  Lucretius  just  about  to  begin,  by 
chance  a centurion  passing  by  outside  with  his  company  of 
the  day-guard,  called  out  with  a loud  voice  to  the  ensign- 
bearer  to  halt  and  fix  his  standard,  for  this  was  the  best  place 
to  stay  in.  This  voice,  coming  in  that  moment  of  time,  and 
at  that  crisis  of  uncertainty  and  anxiety  for  the  future,  was 
taken  as  a direction  what  was  to  be  done  ; so  that  Lucre- 
tius, assuming  an  attitude  of  devotion,  gave  sentence  in  con- 
currence with  the  gods,  as  he  said,  as  likewise  did  all  that 
followed  Even  among  the  common  people  it  created  a won- 


224 


CAMILLUS. 


derful  change  of  feeling ; every  one  now  cheered  and  en* 
couraged  his  neighbor,  and  set  himself  to  the  work,  proceed- 
ing in  it,  however,  not  by  any  regular  lines  or  divisions,  but 
every  one  pitching  upon  that  plot  of  ground  which  came  next 
to  hand,  or  best  pleased  his  fancy  ; by  which  haste  and  hurry 
in  building,  they  constructed  their  city  in  narrow  and  ill-de- 
signed lanes,  and  \vith  houses  huddled  together  one  upon 
another  ; for  it  is  said  that  within  the  compass  of  the  year  the 
whole  city  was  built  up  anew,  both  in  its  public  walls  and 
private  buildings.  The  persons,  however,  appointed  by  Ca- 
inillus  to  resume  and  mark  out,  in  this  general  confusion,  all 
consecrated  places,  coming,  in  their  way  round  the  Palatium, 
to  the  chapel  of  Mars,  found  the  chapel  itself  indeed  destroyed 
and  burnt  to  the  ground,  like  every  thing  else,  by  the  barbari- 
ans ; but  whilst  they  were  clearing  the  place,  and  carrying  away 
the  rubbish,  lit  upon  Romulus's  augural  staff,  buried  under  a 
great  heap  of  ashes.  This  sort  of  staff  is  crooked  at  one  end, 
and  is  called  Utuus ; they  make  use  of  it  in  quartering  out  the 
regions  of  the  heavens  when  engaged  in  divination  from  the 
flight  of  birds  \ Romulus,  who  was  himself  a great  diviner, 
made  use  of  it.  But  when  he  disappeared  from  the  earth, 
the  priests  took  his  staff  and  kept  it,  as  other  holy  things, 
from  the  touch  of  man  ; and  when  they  now  found  that, 
whereas  all  other  things  were  consumed,  this  staff  had  alto- 
gether escaped  the  flames,  they  began  to  conceive  happier 
hopes  of  Rome,  and  to  augur  from  this  token  its  future  ever- 
lasting safety. 

And  now  they  had  scarcely  got  a breathing  fime  from 
their  trouble,  when  a new  war  came  upon  them  ; and  the 
^quians,  Volscians,  and  Latins  all  at  once  invaded  their  ter- 
ritories, and  the  Tuscans  besieged  Sutrium,  their  confederate 
city.  The  military  tribunes  who  commanded  the  army,  and 
were  encamped  about  the  hill  Maecius,  being  closely  besieged 
by  the  Latins,  and  the  camp  in  danger  to  be  lost,  sent  to 
Rorne,  where  Camillus  was  a third  time  chosen  dictator.  Of 
this  war  two  different  accounts  are  given ; I shall  begin  with 
the  more  fabulous.  They  say  that  the  Latins  (whether  out  of 
pretence,  or  a real  design  to  revive  the  ancient  relationship  of 
the  two  nations)  sent  to  desire  of  the  Romans  some  free-born 
ipaidens  in  marriage  ; that  when  the  Romans  were  at  a loss 
how  to  determine  (for  on  one  hand  they  dreaded  a war,  hav- 
ing scarcely  yet  settled  and  recovered  themselves,  and  on  the 
other  side  suspected  that  this  asking  of  wives  was,  in  plain 
tprms,  nothing  else  but  a demand  for  hostages,  though  cov 


CAMILLUS. 


225 


ered  over  with  the  specious  name  of  intermarriage  and  alli- 
ance), a certain  handmaid,  by  name  Tutula,  or  as  some  call 
her,  Philotis,  persuaded  the  magistrates  to  send  with  her  some 
of  the  most  youthful  and  best-looking  maid-servants,  in  the 
bridal  dress  of  noble  vigins,  and  leave  the  rest  to  her  care 
and  management ; that  the  magistrates,  consenting,  chose 
out  as  many  as  she  thought  necessary  for  her  purpose,  and 
adorning  them  with  gold  and  rich  clothes,  delivered  them  to 
the  Latins,  who  were  encamped  not  far  from  the  city  ; that 
at  night  the  rest  stole  away  the  enemy’s  swords,  but  Tutula 
or  Philotis,  getting  to  the  top  of  a wild  fig-tree,  and  spreading 
out  a thick  woollen  cloth  behind  her,  held  out  a torch  towards 
Rome,  which  was  the  signal  concerted  between  her  and  the. 
commanders,  without  the  knowledge,  however,  of  any  other 
of  the  citizens,  which  was  the  reason  that  their  issuing  out 
from  the  city  was  tumultuous,  the  officers  pushing  their  men 
on,  and  they  calling  upon  one  another’s  names,  and  scarce  able 
to  bring  themselves  into  order  ; that  setting  upon  the  enemy’s 
works,  who  either  were  asleep  or  expected  no  such  matter, 
they  took  the  camp  and  destroyed  most  of  them  ; and  that 
this  was  done  on  the  nones  of  July,  which  was  then  called 
Quintilis,  and  that  the  feast  that  is  observed  on  that  day  is  a 
commemoration  of  what  was  then  done.  For  in  it,  first,  they 
run  out  of  the  city  in  great  crowds,  and  call  out  aloud  several 
familiar  and  common  names,  Caius,  Marcus,  Lucius,  and  the 
like,  in  representation  of  the  way  in  which  they  called  to 
one  another  when  they  went  out  in  such  haste.  In  the  next 
place,  the  maid-servants,  gaily  dressed,  run  about,  playing 
and  jesting  upon  all  they  meet,  and  amongst  themselves,  also, 
use  a kind  of  skirmishing,  to  show  they  helped  in  the  conflict 
against  the  Latins  ; and  while  eating  and  drinking,  they  sit 
shaded  over  with  boughs  of  wild  fig-tree,  and  the  day  they 
call  Nonae  Caprotinae,  as  some  think  from  that  wild  fig-tree 
on  which  the  maid-servant  held  up  her  torch,  the  Roman 
name  for  a wild  fig-tree  being  caprificns.  Others  refer  most  of 
what  is  said  or  done  at  this  feast  to  the  fate  of  Romulus,  for, 
on  this  day,  he  vanished  outside  the  gates  in  a sudden  dark- 
ness and  storm  (some  think  it  an  eclipse  of  the  sun),  and  from 
this  the  day  was  called  Nonae  Caprotinae,  the  Latin  for  a goat 
being  capra^  and  the  place  where  he  disappeared  having  the 
name  of  Goat’s  Marsh,  as  is  stated  in  his  life. 

Put  the  general  stream  of  writers  prefer  the  other  account 
of  this  war,  which  they  thus  relate.  Camillus,  being  the  third 
time  chosen  dictator,  and  learning  that  the  army  under  the 

IS 


226 


CAMILLUS. 


tribunes  was  besieged  by  the  Latins  and  Volscians^  was  con* 
strained  to  arm,  not  only  those  under,  but  also  those  over, 
the  age  of  service  ; and  taking  a large  circuit  round  the 
mountain  Maecius,  undiscovered  by  the  enemy<^  lodged  his 
army  on  their  rear,  and  then  by  many  fires  gave  notice  of  his 
arrival.  The  besieged,  encouraged  by  this,  prepared  to  sally 
forth  and  join  battle  ; but  the  Latins  and  Volscians,  fearing 
this  exposure  to  an  enemy  on  both  sides,  drew  themselves 
Anthill  their  works,  and  fortified  their  camp  with  a strong  pal- 
isade of  trees  on  every  side,  resolving  to  wait  for  more  sup- 
plies from  home,  and  expecting,  also,  the  assistance  of  the 
Tuscans,  their  confederates.  Camillus,  detecting  their  object, 
and  fearing  to  be  reduced  to  the  same  position  to  which  he 
had  brought  them,  namely,  to  be  besieged  himself,  resolved 
to  lose  no  time:  and  finding  their  rampart  was  all  of  timber, 
and  observing  that  a strong  wind  constantly  at  sun-rising 
blew  off  from  the  mountains,  after  having  prepared  a quan- 
tity of  combustibles,  about  break  of  day  he  drew  forth  his 
forces,  commanding  a part  with  their  missiles  to  assault  the 
enemy  with  noise  and  shouting  on  the  other  quarter,  whilst  he, 
with  those  that  were  to  fling  in  the  fire,  went  to  that  side  of  the 
enemy’s  camp  to  which  the  wind  usually  blew,  and  there  wait- 
ed his  opportunity.  When  the  skirmish  was  begun,  and  the 
sun  risen,  and  a strong  wind  set  in  from  the  mountains,  he 
gave  the  signal  of  onset ; and  heaping  in  an  infinite  quantity 
of  fiery  matter,  filled  all  their  rampart  with  it,  so  that  the 
flame  being  fed  by  the  close  timber  and  wooden  palisades, 
went  on  and  spread  into  all  quarters.  The  Latins,  having 
nothing  ready  to  keep  it  off  or  extinguish  it,  when  the  camp 
was  now  almost  full  of  fire,  weie  driven  back  within  a very 
small  compass,  and  at  last  forced  by  necessity  to  come  into 
their  enemy’s  hands,  who  stood  before  the  works  ready  armed 
and  prepared  to  receive  them  ; of  these  very  few  escaped, 
while  those  that  stayed  in  the  camp  were  all  a prey  to  the  fire, 
until  the  Romans,  to  gain  the  pillage,  extinguished  it. 

These  things  performed,  Camillus,  leaving  his  son  Lucius 
in  the  camp  to  guard  the  prisoners  and  secure  the  booty, 
passed  into  the  enemy’s  country,  where,  having  taken  the  city 
of  the  .^quians  and  reduced  the  Volscians  to  obedience,  he 
then  immediately  led  his  army  to  Sutrium,  not  having  heard 
what  had  befallen  the  Sutrians,  but  making  haste  to  assist 
them,  as  if  they  were  still  in  danger  and  besieged  by  the  Tus- 
cans. They,  however,  had  already  surrendered  their  city  to 
their  enemies,  and  destitute  of  all  things,  with  nothing  left 


CAMILLUS. 


22) 


but  their  clothes,  met  Camillus  on  the  way,  leading  their 
wives  and  children,  and  bewailing  their  misfortune.  Camillus 
himself  was  struck  with  compassion,  and  preceiving  the  sob 
(iiers  weeping,  and  commiserating  their  case,  while  the  Sii- 
trians  hung  about  and  clung  to  them,  resolved  not  to  defet 
revenge,  but  that  very  day  to  lead  his  army  to  Sutrium  ; con- 
jecturing that  the  enemy,  having  just  taken  a rich  and  plenti* 
£ul  city,  without  an  enemy  left  within  it,  nor  any  from  without 
to  be  expected,  would  be  found  abandoned  to  enjoyment  and 
unguarded.  Neither  did  his  opinion  fail  him ; he  not  only 
passed  through  their  country  without  discovery,  but  came  up 
to  their  very  gates  and  possessed  himself  of  the  walls,  not  a 
man  being  left  to  guard  them,  but  their  whole  army  scattered 
about  in  the  houses,  drinking  and  making  merry.  Nay,  when 
at  last  they  did  perceive  that  the  enemy  had  seized  the  city, 
they  were  so  overloaded  with  meat  and  wine,  that  few  were 
able  so  much  as  to  endeavor  to  escape,  but  either  waited 
shamefully  for  their  death  within  doors,  or  surrendered  them- 
selves to  the  conqueror.  Thus  the  city  of  the  Sutrians  was 
twice  taken  in  one  day ; and  they  who  were  in  possession 
lost  it,  and  they  who  had  lost  regained  it,  alike  by  the  means 
of  Camillus.  For  all  which  actions  he  received  a triumph, 
which  brought  him  no  less  honor  and  reputation  than  the 
two  former  ones  ; for  those  citizens  who  before  most  regarded 
him  with  an  evil  eye,  and  ascribed  his  successes  to  a certain 
luck  rather  than  real  merit,  were  compelled  by  these  last  acts 
of  his  to  allow  the  whole  honor  to  his  great  abilities  and 
energy. 

Of  all  the  adversaries  and  enviers  of  his  glory,  Marcus 
Manlius  was  the  most  distinguished,  he  who  first  drove  back 
the  Gauls  when  they  made  their  night  attack  upon  the  Capitol, 
and  who  for  that  reason  had  been  named  Capitolinus.  This 
man,  affecting  the  first  place  in  the  commonwealth,  and  not 
able  by  noble  ways  to  outdo  Camillus’s  reputation,  took  that 
ordinary  course  towards  usurpation  of  absolute  power,  namely, 
to  gain  the  multitude,  those  of  them  especially  that  were  in 
debt ; defending  some  by  pleading  their  causes  against  their 
creditor‘s  rescuing  others  by  force,  and  not  suffering  the  law 
to  proceed  against  them  ; insomuch  that  in  a short  time  he 
got  great  numbers  of  indigent  people  about  him,  whose 
tumults  and  uproars  in  the  forum  struck  terror  into  the  prin- 
cipal citizens.  After  that  Quintius  Capitolinus,  who  was 
made  dictator  to  suppress  these  disorders,  had  committed 
Manlius  to  prison,  the  people  immediately  changed  their 


2^8 


CAMILLUS. 


apparel,  a thing  never  done  but  in  great  and  public  calamities, 
and  the  senate,  fearing  some  tumult,  ordered  him  to  be  re- 
leased. He,  however,  when  set  at  liberty,  changed  not  his 
course,  but  was  rather  the  more  insolent  in  his  proceedings, 
filling  the  whole  city  with  faction  and  sedition.  They  chose, 
therefore,  Camillus  again  military  tribune ; and  a day  being 
appointed  for  Manlius  to  answer  to  his  charge,  the  prospect 
from  the  place  where  his  trial  was  held  proved  a great  impedi- 
ment to  his  accusers,  for  the  very  spot  where  Manlius  by 
night  fought  with  the  Gauls  overlooked  the  forum  from  the 
Capitol,  so  that,  stretching  forth  his  hands  that  way,  and 
weeping,  he  called  to  their  remembrance  his  past  actions, 
raising  compassion  in  all  that  beheld  him.  Insomuch  that 
the  judges  were  at  a loss  what  to  do,  and  several  times  ad- 
journed the  trial,  unwilling  to  acquit  him  of  the  crime,  which 
was  sufficiently  proved,  and  yet  unable  to  execute  the  law 
while  his  noble  action  remained,  as  it  were,  before  their  eyes. 
Camillus,  considering  this,  transferred  the  court  outside  the 
gates  to  the  Peteline  Grove,  from  whence  there  is  no  prospect 
of  the  Capitol.  Here  his  accuser  went  on  with  his  charge, 
and  his  judges  were  capable  of  remembering  and  duly  resent- 
ing his  guilty  deeds.  He  was  convicted,  carried  to  the 
Capitol,  and  flung  headlong  from  the  rock  ; so  that  one  and 
the  same  spot  was  thus  the  witness  of  his  greatest  glory,  and 
monument  of  his  most  unfortunate  end.  The  Romans,  be- 
sides, razed  his  house,  and  built  there  a temple  to  the  goddess 
they  call  Moneta,  ordaining  for  the  future  that  none  of  the 
patrician  order  should  ever  dwell  on  the  Capitoline. 

And  now  Camillus,  being  called  to  his  sixth  tribune-ship, 
desired  to  be  excused,  as  being  aged,  and  perhaps  not  un- 
fearful of  the  malice  of  fortune,  and  those  reverses  which 
seem  to  ensue  upon  great  prosperity.  But  the  most  apparent 
pretence  was  the  weakness  of  his  body,  for  he  happened  at 
that  time  to  be  sick  ; the  people,  however,  would  admit  of  no 
excuses,  but,  crying  that  they  wanted  not  his  strength  for 
horse  or  for  foot  service,  but  only  his  counsel  and  con- 
duct, constrained  him  to  undertake  the  command,  and  with 
one  of  his  fellow-tribunes  to  lead  the  army  immediately 
against  the  enemy.  These  were  the  Praenestines  and  Vol 
scians,  who,  with  large  forces,  were  laying  waste  the  territory 
of  the  Roman  confederates.  Having  marched  out  with  his 
army,  he  sat  down  and  encamped  near  the  enemy,  meaning 
himself  to  protract  the  war,  or  if  there  should  come  any  ne- 
cessity or  occasion  of  fighting,  in  the  mean  time  to  regain  his 


CAMILLUS. 


279 

Strength.  But  Lucius  Furius,  his  colleague,  carried  away 
with  the  desire  of  glory,  was  not  to  be  held  in,  but,  impatient 
to  give  battle,  inflamed  the  inferior  officers  of  the  army  with 
the  same  eagerness  ; so  that  Camillus,  fearing  he  might  seem 
out  of  envy  to  be  wishing  to  rob  the  young  men  of  the  glory 
of  a noble  exploit,  consented,  though  unwillingly,  that  he 
should  draw  out  the  forces,  whilst  himself,  by  reason  of  weak- 
ness, stayed  behind  with  a few  in  the  camp.  Lucius,  engag- 
ing rashly,  was  discomfited,  when  Camillus,  perceiving  the 
Romans  to  give  ground  and  fly,  could  not  contain  himself, 
but,  leaping  from  his  bed,  with  those  he  had  about  him  ran  to 
meet  them  at  the  gates  of  the  camp,  making  his  way  through 
the  flyers  to  oppose  the  pursuers  ; so  that  those  who  had  got 
within  the  camp  turned  back  at  once  and  followed  him,  and 
those  that  came  flying  from  without  made  head  again  and 
gathered  about  him,  exhorting  one  another  not  to  forsake 
their  general.  Thus  the  enemy,  for  that  time,  was  stopped 
in  his  pursuit.  The  next  day  Camillus,  drawing  out  his 
forces  and  joining  battle  with  them,  overthrew  them  by  main 
force,  and,  following  close  upon  them,  entered  pell-mell  with 
them  into  their  camp,  and  took  it,  slaying  the  greatest  part  of 
them.  Afterwards,  having  heard  that  the  city  Satricum  was 
taken  by  the  Tuscans,  and  the  inhabitants,  all  Romans,  put 
to  the  sword,  he  sent  home  to  Rome  the  main  body  of  his 
forces  and  heaviest-armed,  and  taking  with  him  the  lightest 
and  most  vigorous  soldiers,  set  suddenly  upon  the  Tuscans, 
who  were  in  the  possession  of  the  city,  and  mastered  them, 
slaying  some  and  expelling  the  rest ; and  so,  i^eturning  to 
Rome  with  great  spoils,  gave  signal  evidence  of  their  supe- 
rior wisdom,  who,  not  mistrusting  the  weakness  and  age  of  a 
commander  endued  with  courage  and  conduct,  had  rather 
chosen  him  who  was  sickly  and  desirous  to  be  excused,  than 
younger  men  who  were  forward  and  ambitious  to  command. 

When,  therefore,  the  revolt  of  the  Tusculans  was  reported, 
they  gave  Camillus  the  charge  of  reducing  them,  choosing  one 
of  his  five  colleagues  to  go  with  him.  And  when  every  one 
was  eager  for  the  place,  contrary  to  the  expectation  of  all,  he 
passed  by  the  rest  and  chose  Lucius  Furius,  the  very  same 
man  who  lately,  against  the  judgment  of  Camillus,  had  rashly 
hazarded  and  nearly  lost  a battle  ; willing,  as  it  should  sc'^m,  to 
dissemble  that  mis-carriage,  and  free  him  from  the  shame  of  it. 
The  Tusculans,  hearing  of  Camillus^s  coming  against  them, 
made  a cunning  attempt  at  revoking  their  act  of  revolt ; theit 
fields,  as  in  times  of  highest  peace,  were  full  of  ploughmen 


230 


CAMILLUS. 


and  shepherds ; their  gates  stood  wide  open,  and  their  chil- 
dren were  being  taught  in  the  schools  ; of  the  people,  such 
as  were  tradesmen,  he  found  in  their  workshops,  busied  about 
their  several  employments,  and  the  better  sort  of  citizens 
walking  in  the  public  places  in  their  ordinary  dress  ; the 
magistrates  hurried  about  to  provide  quarters  for  the  Romans, 
as  if  they  stood  in  fear  of  no  danger  and  were  conscious  of 
no  fault.  Which  arts,  though  they  could  not  dispossess 
Camillus  of  the  conviction  he  had  of  their  treason,  yet  induced 
some  compassion  for  their  repentance  ; he  commanded  them 
to  go  to  the  senate  and  deprecate  their  anger,  and  joined 
himself  as  an  intercessor  in  their  behalf,  so  that  their  city 
was  acquitted  of  all  guilt  and  admitted  to  Roman  citizenship. 
These  were  the  most  memorable  actions  of  his  sixth  tribune- 
ship. 

After  these  things,  Licinius  Stolo  raised  a great  sedition 
in  the  city,  and  brought  the  people  to  dissension  with  the 
senate,  contending,  that  of  two  consuls  one  should  be  chosen 
out  of  the  commons,  and  not  both  out  of  the  patricians. 
Tribunes  of  the  people  were  chosen,  but  the  election  of  con- 
suls was  interrupted  and  prevented  by  the  people.  And  as 
this  absence  of  any  supreme  magistrate  was  leading  to  yet 
further  confusion,  Camillus  was  the  fourth  time  created  dic- 
tator by  the  senate,  sorely  against  the  people's  will,  and  not 
altogether  in  accordance  with  his  own  ; he  had  little  desire 
for  a conflict  with  men  whose  past  services  entitled  them  to 
tell  him  that  he  had  achieved  far  greater  actions  in  war  along 
with  them  than  in  politics  with  the  patricians,  who,  indeed, 
had  only  put  him  forward  now  out  of  envy;  that,  if  success- 
ful, he  might  crush  the  people,  or,  failing,  be  crushed  himself. 
However,  to  provide  as  good  a remedy  as  he  could  for  the 
present,  knowing  the  day  on  which  the  tribunes  of  the  people 
intended  to  prefer  the  law,  he  appointed  it  by  proclamation 
for  a general  muster,  and  called  the  people  from  the  forum  into 
the  Campus,  threatening  to  set  heavy  fines  upon  such  as  should 
not  obey.  On  the  other  side,  the  tribunes  of  the  people  met 
his  threats  by  solemnly  protesting  they  would  fine  him  in  fifty 
thousand  drachmas  of  silver,  if  he  persisted  in  obstructing 
the  people  from  giving  their  suffrages  for  the  law.  Whether 
it  were,  then,  that  he  feared  another  banishment  or  condem- 
nation, which  would  ill  become  his  age  and  past  great  actions, 
or  found  himself  unable  to  stem  the  current  of  the  multitude, 
which  ran  strong  and  violent,  he  betook  himself,  for  the 
present,  to  his  house,  and  afterwards,  for  some  days  together 


CAMTLLUS. 


23 


professing  sickness,  finally  laid  down  his  dictatorship. 
The  senate  created  another  dictator ; who,  choosing  Stolo, 
leader  of  the  sedition,  to  be  his  general  of  horse,  suffered 
that  law  to  be  enacted  and  ratified,  which  was  most  grievous 
to  the  patricians,  namely,  that  no  person  whatsoever  should 
possess  above  five  hundred  acres  of  land.  Stolo  was  much 
distinguished  by  the  victory  he  had  gained  ; but,  not  long 
after,  was  found  himself  to  possess  more  than  he  had  allowed 
to  others,  and  suffered  the  penalties  of  his  own  law. 

And  now  the  contention  about  election  of  consuls  coming 
on  (which  was  the  main  point  and  original  cause  of  "he  dis- 
sension, and  had  throughout  furnished  most  matter  of  divis- 
ion between  the  senate  and  the  people),  certain  intelligence 
arrived,  that  the  Gauls  again,  proceeding  from  the  Adriatic 
Sea,  were  marching  in  vast  numbers  upon  Rome.  On  the 
very  heels  of  the  report  followed  manifest  acts  also  of  hostil- 
ity ; the  country  through  which  they  marched  was  all  wasted, 
and  such  as  by  flight  could  not  make  their  escape  to  Rome 
were  dispersing  and  scattering  among  the  mountains.  The 
terror  of  this  war  quieted  the  sedition  ; nobles  and  commons, 
senate  and  people  together  unanimously  chose  Camillus  the 
fifth  time  dictator ; who,  though  very  aged,  not  wanting  much 
of  fourscore  years,  yet,  considering  the  danger  and  necessity 
of  his  country^  did  not,  as  before,  pretend  sickness,  or  depre- 
ciate his  own  capacity,  but  at  once  undertook  the  charge,  and 
enrolled  soldiers.  And,  knowing  that  the  great  force  of  the 
barbarians  lay  chiefly  in  their  swords,  with  which  they  laid 
about  them  in  a rude  and  inartificial  manner,  hacking  and 
hewing  the  head  and  shoulders,  he  caused  head-pieces  entire 
of  iron  to  be  made  for  most  of  his  men,  smoothing  and  polish- 
ing the  outside,  that  the  enemy’s  swords,  lighting  upon  them, 
might  either  slide  off  or  be  broken  ; and  fitted  also  their 
shields  with  a little  rim  of  brass,  the  wood  itself  not  being 
sufficient  to  bear  off  the  blows.  Besides,  he  taught  his  sol- 
diers to  use  their  long  javelins  in  close  encounter,  and,  by 
j bringing  them  under  their  enemy’s  swords,  to  receive  their 
strokes  upon  them. 

When  the  Gauls  drew  near,  about  the  river  Anio,  dragging 
a heavy  camp  after  them,  and  loaded  with  infinite  spoil, 
Camillus  drew  forth  his  forces,  and  planted  himself  upon  a 
hill  of  easy  ascent,  and  which  had  many  dips  in  it,  with  the 
object  that  the  greatest  part  of  his  army  might  lie  concealed, 
and  those  who  appeared  might  be  thought  to  have  betaken 
themselves,  through  fear,  to  those  upper  grounds.  And  the 


232 


CAMILLUS. 


more  to  increase  this  opinion  in  them,  he  suffered  them,  with- 
out any  disturbance,  to  spoil  and  pillage  even  to  his  very 
trenches,  keeping  himself  quiet  within  his  works,  which  were 
well  fortified  ; till,  at  last,  perceiving  that  part  of  the  enemy 
were  scattered  about  the  country  foraging,  and  that  those  that 
were  in  the  camp  did  nothing  day  and  night  but  drink  and 
revel,  in  the  night  time  he  drew  up  his  lightest  armed  men, 
and  sent  them  out  before  to  impede  the  enemy  while  forming 
into  order,  and  to  harass  them  when  they  should  first  issue 
out  of  their  camp  ; and  early  in  the  morning  brought  down 
his  main  body,  and  set  them  in  battle  array  in  the  lower 
grounds,  a numerous  and  courageous  army,  not,  as  the  bar- 
barians had  supposed,  an  inconsiderable  and  fearful  division. 
The  first  thing  that  shook  the  courage  of  the  Gauls  was,  that 
their  enemies  had,  contrary  to  their  expectation,  the  honor  of 
being  aggressors.  In  the  next  place,  the  light-armed  men, 
falling  upon  them  before  they  could  get  into  their  usual  order 
or  range  themselves  in  their  proper  squadrons,  so  disturbed 
and  pressed  upon  them,  that  they  were  obliged  to  fight  at 
random,  without  any  order  at  all.  But  at  last,  when  Camillus 
brought  on  his  heavy-armed  legions,  the  barbarians,  with 
their  swords  drawn,  went  vigorously  to  engage  them  ; the 
Romans,  however,  opposing  their  javelins  and  receiving  the 
force  of  their  blows  on  those  parts  of  their  defences  which 
were  well  guarded  with  steel,  turned  the  edge  of  their  weapons, 
being  made  of  soft  and  ill-tempered  metal,  so  that  their  swords 
bent  and  doubled  up  in  their  hands  ; and  their  shields  were 
pierced  through  and  through,  and  grew  heavy  with  the  jave- 
lins that  stuck  upon  them.  And  thus  forced  to  quit  their  own 
weapons,  they  endeavored  to  take  advantage  of  those  of  their 
enemies,  laid  hold  of  the  javelins  with  their  hands,  and  tried 
to  pluck  them  away.  But  the  Romans,  perceiving  them  now 
naked  and  defenceless,  betook  themselves  to  their  swords, 
which  they  so  well  used,  that  in  a little  time  great  slaughter 
was  made  in  the  foremost  ranks,  while  the  rest  fled  over  all 
parts  of  the  level  country ; the  hills  and  upper  grounds  Camil- 
lus had  secured  beforehand,  and  their  camp  they  knew  it 
would  not  be  difficult  for  the  enemy  to  take,  as,  through  confi- 
dence of  victory,  they  had  left  it  unguarded.  This  fight,  it  is 
stated,  was  thirteen  years  after  the  sacking  of  Rome ; and 
from  henceforward  the  Romans  took  courage,  and  surmount- 
ed the  apprehensions  they  had  hitherto  entertained  of  the 
barbarians,  whose  previous  defeat  they  had  attributed  rather 
to  pestilence  and  a concurrence  of  mischances  than  to  their 


CAMILLUS. 


233 


own  superior  valor.  And,  indeed,  this  fear  had  been  formerly 
so  great  that  they  made  a law,  that  priests  should  be  excused 
from  service  in  war,  unless  in  an  invasion  from  the  Gaul. 

This  was  the  last  military  action  that  ever  Camillus  per- 
formed ; for  the  voluntary  surrender  of  the  city  of  the  Veli- 
trani  was  but  a mere  accessory  to  it.  But  the  greatest  of  all 
civil  contests,  and  the  hardest  to  be  managed,  was  still  to  be 
iought  out  against  the  people  ; who  returning  home  full  of 
victory  and  success,  insisted,  contrary  to  established  law,  to 
have  one  of  the  consuls  chosen  out  of  their  own  body.  The 
senate  strongly  opposed  it,  and  would  not  suffer  Camillus  to 
lay  down  his  dictatorship,  thinking  that,  under  the  shelter  of 
his  great  name  and  authority,  they  should  be  better  able  to 
contend  for  the  power  of  the  aristocracy.  But  when  Camillus 
was  sitting  upon  the  tribunal,  despatching  public  affairs,  an 
officer,  sent  by  the  tribunes  of  the  people,  commanded  him  to 
rise  and  follow  him,  laying  his  hand  upon  him,  as  ready  to  seize 
and  carry  him  away  ; upon  which,  such  a noise  and  tumult  as 
was  never  heard  before,  filled  the  whole  forum  ; some  that 
were  about  Camillus  thrusting  the  officer  from  the  bench,  and 
the  multitude  below  calling  out  to  him  to  bring  Camillus 
down.  Being  at  a loss  what  to  do  in  these  difficulties,  he  yet 
laid  not  down  his  authority,  but,  taking  the  senators  along 
with  him,  he  went  to  the  senate-house  ; but  before  he  entered, 
besought  the  gods  that  they  would  bring  these  troubles  to  a 
happy  conclusion,  solemnly  vowing,  when  the  tumult  was  end- 
ed, to  build  a temple  to  Concord.  A great  conflict  of  op- 
posite opinions  arose  in  the  senate  ; but,  at  last,  the  most 
moderate  and  most  acceptable  to  the  people  prevailed,  and 
consent  was  given,  that  of  two  consuls,  one  should  be  chosen 
from  the  commonalty.  When  the  dictator  proclaimed  this 
determination  of  the  senate  to  the  people,  at  the  moment, 
picased  and  reconciled  with  the  senate,  as  indeed  could  not 
otherwise  be,  they  accompanied  Camillus  home,  with  all  ex- 
pressions and  acclamations  of  joy  ; and  the  next  day,  assem- 
bling together,  they  voted  a temple  of  Concord  to  be  built, 
according  to  Camillus’s  vow,  facing  the  assembly  and  the 
forum  ] and  to  the  feasts,  called  the  Latin  holidays,  they  add- 
ed one  day  more,  making  four  in  all ; and  ordained  that,  on 
the  present  occasion,  the  whole  people  of  Rome  should  sacri- 
fice with  garlands  on  their  heads. 

In  the  election  of  consuls  held  by  Camillus,  Marcus  ./Emil- 
ius  was  chosen  of  the  patricians,  and  Lucius  Sextius  the  first 
of  the  commonalty  ; and  this  was  the  last  of  all  Camillus’s 


234 


PERICLES. 


actions.  In  the  year  following,  a pestilential  sickness  infected 
Rome,  which,  besides  an  infinite  number  of  the  common 
people,  swept  away  most  of  the  magistrates,  among  whom 
was  Camillus  ; whose  death  cannot  be  called  immature,  if  we 
consider  his  great  age,  or  greater  actions,  yet  was  he  more 
lamented  than  all  the  rest  put  together  that  then  died  of  that 
distemper. 


PERICLES. 

CiESAR  once,  seeing  some  wealthy  strangers  at  Rome,  car- 
rying up  and  down  with  them  in  their  arms  and  bosoms  young 
puppy-dogs  and  monkeys,  embracing  and  making  much  of 
them,  took  occasion  not  unnaturally  to  ask  whether  the  wo- 
men in  their  country  were  not  used  to  bear  children  ; by  that 
prince-like  reprimand  gravely  reflecting  upon  persons  who 
spend  and  lavish  upon  brute  beasts  that  affection  and  kind- 
ness which  nature  has  implanted  in  us  to  be  bestowed  on 
those  of  our  own  kind.  With  like  reason  may  we  blame  those 
who  misuse  that  love  of  inquiry  and  observation  which  nature 
has  implanted  in  our  souls,  by  expending  it  on  objects  un- 
worthy of  the  attention  either  of  their  eyes  or  their  ears,  while 
they  disregard  such  as  are  excellent  in  themselves,  and  would 
do  them  good. 

The  mere  outward  sense,  being  passive  in  responding  to 
the  impression  of  the  objects  that  come  in  its  way  and  strike 
upon  it,  perhaps  cannot  help  entertaining  and  taking  notice 
of  every  thing  that  addresses  it,  be  it  what  it  will,  useful  or 
unuseful ; but,  in  the  exercise  of  his  mental  perception,  every 
man,  if  he  chooses,  has  a natural  power  to  turn  himself  upon 
all  occasions,  and  to  change  and  shift  with  the  greatest  ease 
to  what  he  shall  himself  judge  desirable.  So  that  it  becomes 
a man’s  duty  to  pursue  and  make  after  the  best  and  choicest 
of  every  thing,  that  he  may  not  only  employ  his  contemplation, 
but  may  also  be  improved  by  it.  For  as  that  color  is  most 
suitable  to  the  eye  whose  freshness  and  pleasantness  stimu- 
lates and  strengthens  the  sight,  so  a man  ought  to  apply  his 
intellectual  perception  to  such  objects  as,  with  the  sense  of 
delight,  are  apt  to  call  it  forth,  and  allure  it  to  its  own  proper 
good  and  advantage. 

Such  objects  we  find  in  the  acts  of  virtue,  which  also  pro- 
duce in  the  minds  of  mere  readers  about  them,  an  emulation 


PERICLES. 


235 


and  eagerness  that  may  lead  them  on  to  imitation.  In  other 
things  there  does  not  immediately  follow  upon  the  admiration 
and  liking  of  the  thing  done,  any  strong  desire  of  doing  the 
like.  Nay,  many  times,  on  the  very  contrary,  when  we  are 
pleased  with  the  work,  we  slight  and  set  little  by  the  work- 
man or  artist  himself,  as,  for  instance,  in  perfumes  and  pur- 
ple dyes,  we  are  taken  with  the  things  themselves  well  enough, 
but  do  not  think  dyers  and  perfumers  otherwise  than  low  and 
sordid  people.  It  was  not  said  amiss  by  Antisthenes,  when 
people  told  him  that  one  Ismenias  was  an  excellent  piper. 
“ It  may  be  so,’’  said  he,  ^‘but  he  is  but  a wretched  huma^-* 
being,  otherwise  he  would  not  have  been  an  excellent  piper.” 
And  king  Philip,  to  the  same  purpose,  told  his  son  Alexander, 
who  once  at  a merry-meeting  played  a piece  of  music  charm- 
ingly and  skilfully,  “ Are  you  not  ashamed,  son,  to  play  so 
well } ” For  it  is  enough  for  a king  or  prince  to  find  leisure 
sometimes  to  hear  others  sing,  and  he  does  the  muses  quite 
honor  enough  when  he  pleases  to  be  but  present,  while  others 
engage  in  such  exercises  and  trials  of  skill. 

He  who  busies  himself  in  mean  occupations  produces,  in 
the  very  pains  he  takes  about  things  of  little  or  no  use,  an 
evidence  against  himself  of  his  negligence  and  indisposition 
to  what  is  really  good.  Nor  did  any  generous  and  ingenuous 
young  man,  at  the  sight  of  the  statue  of  Jupiter  at  Pisa,  ever 
desire  to  be  a Phidias,  or  on  seeing  that  of  Juno  at  Argos, 
long  to  be  a Polycletus,  or  feel  induced  by  his  pleasure  in 
their  poems  to  wish  to  be  an  Anacreon  or  Philetas  or  Archi- 
lochus. For  it  does  not  necessarily  follow,  that,  if  a piece  of 
work  please  for  its  gracefulness,  therefore  he  that  wrought  it 
deserves  our  admiration.  Whence  it  is  that  neither  do  such 
things  really  profit  or  advantage  the  beholders,  upon  the  sight 
of  which  no  zeal  arises  for  the  imitation  of  them,  nor  any  im- 
pulse or  inclination,  Avhich  may  prompt  any  desire  or  endeavor 
of  doing  the  like.  But  virtue,  by  the  bare  statement  of  its  ac- 
tions, can  so  affect  men’s  minds  as  to  create  at  once  both  ad- 
miration of  the  things  done  and  desire  to  imitate  the  doers  of 
them.  The  goods  of  fortune  we  would  possess  and  would 
enjoy  ; those  of  virtue  we  long  to  practice  and  exercise  : we 
are  content  to  receive  the  former  from  others,  the  latter  we 
wish  others  to  experience  from  us.  Moral  good  is  a practical 
stimulus;  it  is  no  sooner  seen,  than  it  inspires  an  impulse  to 
practise  ; and  influences  the  mind  and  character  not  by  a 
mere  imitation  which  we  look  at,  but  by  the  statement  of  the 
fact,  creates  a moral  purpose  wliich  we  fornu 


23^ 


PERICLES. 


And  so  we  have  thought  fit  to  spend  our  time  and  pains  in 
writing  of  the  lives  of  famous  persons  ; and  have  composed 
this  tenth  book  upon  that  subject,  containing  the  life  of 
Pericles,  and  that  of  Fabius  Maximus,  who  carried  on  the  war 
against  Hannibal,  men  alike,  as  in  their  other  virtues  and  good 
parts,  so  especially  in  their  mild  and  upright  temper  and  de- 
meanor, and  in  that  capacity  to  bear  the  cross-grained  humors 
of  their  fellow-citizens  and  colleagues  in  office  which  made 
them  both  most  useful  and  serviceable  to  the  interests  of 
their  countries.  Whether  we  take  a right  aim  at  our  intended 
purpose,  it  is  left  to  the  reader  to  judge  by  what  he  shall  here 
find. 

Pericles  was  of  the  tribe  Acamantis,  and  the  township 
Cholargus,  of  the  noblest  birth  both  on  his  father’s  and  moth- 
er’s side.  Xanthippus,  his  father,  who  defeated  the  king  of 
Persia’s  generals  in  the  battle  at  Mycale,  took  to  wife  Agariste, 
the  grandchild  of  Clisthenes,  who  drove  out  the  sons  of  Pisis- 
tratus,  and  nobly  put  an  end  to  their  tyrannical  usurpation, 
and,  moreover,  made  a body  of  laws,  and  settled  a model  of 
government  admirably  tempered  and  suited  for  the  harmony 
and  safety  of  the  people. 

His  mother,  being  near  her  time,  fancied  in  a dream  that 
she  was  brought  to  bed  of  a lion,  and  a few  days  after  was 
delivered  of  Pericles,  in  other  respects  perfectly  formed,  only 
his  head  was  somewhat  longish  and  out  of  proportion.  For 
which  reason  almost  all  the  images  and  statues  that  were 
made  of  him  have  the  head  covered  with  a helmet,  the  work- 
men apparently  being  willing  not  to  expose  him.  The  poets 
of  Athens  called  him  Schinocephalos^  or  squill-head,  from 
schmos,  a squill,  or  sea-onion.  One  of  the  comic  poets,  Cra* 
tinus,  in  the  Chirons,  tells  us  that — 

Old  Chronos  once  took  queen  Sedition  to  wife  : 

Which  two  brought  to  life  . 

That  tyiant  far-famed, 

Whom  the  gods  the  supreme  skull-compeller  have  named 

And,  in  the  Nemesis,  addresses  him — 

Come,  Jove,  thou  head  of  gods. 

And  a second,  Teleclides,  says,  that  now,  in  embairassment 
with  political  difficulties,  he  sits  in  the  city — 

Fainting  underneath  the  load 
Of  his  own  head  : and  now  abroad 
From  his  huge  gallery  of  a pate 
Sends  forth  trouble  to  the  stale. 


PERICLES. 


237 


And  a third,  Eiipolis,  in  the  comedy  called  the  Demi,  in  a 
series  of  questions  about  each  of  the  demagogues,  whom  he 
makes  in  the  play  to  come  up  from  hell,  upon  Pericles  being 
named  last,  exclaims — 

And  here  by  way  of  summary,  now  we’ve  done, 

Behold,  in  brief  the  heads  of  all  in  one. 

The  master  that  taught  him  music,  most  authors  are 
agreed,  was  Damon  (whose  name,  they  say,  ought  to  be  pro- 
nounced with  the  first  syllable  short).  Though  Aristotle  telis 
us  that  he  was  thoroughly  practised  in  all  accomplishments  of 
this  kind  by  Pythoclides.  Damon,  it  is  not  unlikely,  being  a 
sophist,  out  of  policy,  sheltered  himself  under  the  profession 
of  music  to  conceal  from  people  in  general  his  skill  in  other 
things,  and  under  this  pretence  attended  Pericles,  the  young 
athlete  of  polices,  so  to  say,  as  his  training-master  in  these  ex- 
ercises. Damon’s  lyre,  however,  did  not  prove  altogether  a 
successful  blind  ; he  was  banished  the  country  by  ostracism 
for  ten  years,  as  a dangerous  intermeddler  and  a favorer  of 
arbitrary  power,  and,  by  this  means,  gave  the  stage  occasion 
to  play  upon  him.  As  for  instance,  Plato,  the  comic  poet,  in- 
troduces a character,  who  questions  him — 

Tell  me,  if  you  please. 

Since  you’re  the  Chiron  who  taught  Pericles. 

Pericles,  also,  was  a hearer  of  Zeno,  the  Eleatic,  who 
treated  of  natural  philosophy  in  the  same  manner  as  Parmen- 
ides did,  but  had  also  perfected  himself  in  an  art  of  his  own 
for  refuting  and  silencing  opponents  in  argument ; as  Timon 
of  Phlius  describes  it, — 

Also  the  two-edged  tongue  of  mighty  Zeno,  who, 

Say  what  one  would,  could  argue  it  untrue. 

But  he  that  saw  most  of  Pericles,  and  furnished  him  most 
especiady  with  a v/eight  and  grandeur  of  sense,  superior  to  all 
arts  of  popularity,  and  in  general  gave  him  his  elevation  and 
sublimity  of  purpose  and  of  character,  was  Anaxagoras  of 
Clazomenae  ; whom  the  men  of  those  times  called  by  the  name 
of  Nous,  that  is,  mind,  or  intelligence,  whether  in  admiration 
of  the  great  and  extraordinary  gift  he  had  displayed  for  the 
science  of  nature,  or  because  that  he  was  the  first  of  the 
philosophers  who  did  not  refer  the  first  ordering  of  the  world 
to  fortune  or  chance,  nor  to  necessity  or  compulsion,  but  to  a 
pure,  unadulterated  intelligence,  which  in  all  other  existing 


PERICLES. 


*38 

mixed  and  compound  things  acts  as  a principle  of  discrimina- 
tion, and  of  combination  of  like  with  like. 

For  this  man,  Pericles  entertained  an  extraordinary  es- 
teem and  admiration,  and  filling  himself  with  this  lofty,  and, 
as  they  call  it,  up-in-the-air  sort  of  thought,  derived  hence  not 
merely,  as  was  natural,  elevation  of  purpose  and  dignity  ot 
language,  raised  far  above  the  base  and  dishonest  buffooneries 
of  mob-eloquence,  but,  besides  this,  a composure  of  counte- 
nance, and  a serenity  and  calmness  in  all  his  movements,  which 
no  occurrence  whilst  he  was  speaking  could  disturb,  a sus- 
tained and  even  tone  of  voice,  and  various  other  advantages 
of  a similar  kind,  which  produced  the  greatest  effect  on  his 
hearers.  Once,  after  being  reviled  and  ill-spoken  of  all  day 
long  in  his  own  hearing  by  some  vile  and  abandoned  fellow 
in  the  open  market-place,  where  he  was  engaged  in  the  de- 
spatch of  some  urgent  affair,  he  continued  his  business  in  per- 
fect silence,  and  in  the  evening  returned  home  composedly, 
the  man  still  dogging  him  at  the  heels,  and  pelting  him  all  the 
way  with  abuse  and  foul  language  ; and  stepping  into  his 
house,  it  being  by  this  time  dark,  he  ordered  one  of  his  ser- 
vants to  take  a light,  and  to  go  along  with  the  man  and  see 
him  safe  home.  Ion,  it  is  true,  the  dramatic  poet,  says  that 
Pericles’s  manner  in  company  was  somewhat  over-assuming 
and  pompous  ; and  that  into  his  high-bearing  there  entered 
a good  deal  of  slightingness  and  scorn  of  others  ; he  reserves 
his  commendation  for  Cimon’s  ease  and  pliancy  and  natural 
grace  in  society.  Ion,  however,  who  must  needs  make  virtue, 
like  a show  of  tragedies,  include  some  comic  scenes,  we  shall 
not  altogether  rely  upon  ; Zeno  used  to  bid  those  who  called 
Pericles’s  gravity  the  affectation  of  a charlatan,  to  go  and 
affect  the  like  themselves ; inasmuch  as  this  mere  counter- 
feiting might  in  time  insensibly  instil  into  them  a real  love 
and  knowledge  of  those  noble  qualities. 

Nor  were  these  the  only  advantages  which  Pericles  derived 
from  Anaxagoras’s  acquaintance  ; he  seems  also  to  have  be- 
come, by  his  instructions,  superior  to  that  superstition  with 
which  an  ignorant  wonder  at  appearances,  for  example,  in  the 
heavens,  possesses  the  minds  of  people  unacquainted  with 
their  causes,  eager  for  the  supernatural,  and  excitable  through 
an  inexperience  which  the  knowledge  of  natural  causes  re- 
moves, replacing  wild  and  timid  superstition  by  the  good  hope 
and  assurance  of  an  intelligent  piety. 

There  is  a story,  that  once  Pericles  had  brought  to  him 
from  a country  farm  of  his,  a ram’s  head  with  one  horn,  and 


PERICLES. 


239 


that  Lampon,  the  diviner,  upon  seeing  the  horn  grow  strong 
and  solid  out  of  the  midst  of  the  forehead,  gave  it  as  his 
judgment,  that,  there  being  at  that  time  two  potent  factions, 
parties,  or  interests  in  the  city,  the  one  of  Thucydides  and  the 
other  of  Pericles,  the  government  would  come  about  to  that 
one  of  them  in  whose  ground  or  estate  this  token  or  indica- 
tion of  fate  had  shown  itself.  But  that  Anaxagoras,  cleaving 
tlie  skull  in  sunder,  showed  to  the  bystanders  that  the  brain 
had  not  filled  up  its  natural  place,  but  being  oblong,  like  an 
egg,  had  collected  from  all  parts  of  the  vessel  which  contained 
it,  in  a point  to  that  place  from  whence  the  root  of  the  horn 
took  its  rise.  And  that,  for  that  time,  Anaxagoras  was  much 
admired  for  his  explanation  by  those  that  were  present ; and 
Lampon  no  less  a little  while  after,  when  Thucydides  was 
overpowered,  and  the  whole  affairs  of  the  state  and  govern- 
ment came  into  the  hands  of  Pericles. 

And  yet,  in  my  opinion,  it  is  no  absurdity  to  say  that  they 
were  both  in  the  right,  both  natural  philosopher  and  diviner, 
one  justly  detecting  the  cause  of  this  event,  by  which  it  was 
produced,  the  other  the  end  for  which  it  was  designed.  For 
it  was  the  business  of  the  one  to  find  out  and  give  an  account 
of  what  it  was  made,  and  in  what  manner  and  by  what  means 
it  grew  as  it  did  ; and  of  the  other  to  foretell  to  what  end  and 
purpose  it  was  so  made,  and  what  it  might  mean  or  portend. 
Those  who  say  that  to  find  out  the  cause  of  a prodigy  is  in 
effect  to  destroy  its  supposed  signification  as  such,  do  not  take 
notice  that,  at  the  same  time,  together  with  divine  prodigies, 
they  also  do  away  with  signs  and  signals  of  human  art  and 
concert,  as,  for  instance,  the  clashings  of  quoits,  fire-beacons, 
and  the  shadows  of  sun-dials,  every  one  of  which  has  its 
cause,  and  by  that  cause  and  contrivance  is  a sign  of  some- 
thing else.  But  these  are  subjects,  perhaps,  that  would  better 
befit  another  place. 

Pericles,  while  yet  but  a young  man,  stood  in  considerable 
apprehension  of  the  people,  as  he  was  thought  in  face  and 
figure  to  be  very  like  the  tyrant  Pisistratus,  and  those  of 
great  age  remarked  upon  the  sweetness  of  his  voice,  and  his 
volubility  and  rapidity  in  speaking,  and  were  struck  with 
amazement  at  the  resemblance.  Reflecting,  too,  that  he  had 
a considerable  estate,  and  was  descended  of  a noble  family, 
and  had  friends  of  great  influence,  he  was  fearful  all  this 
might  bring  him  to  be  banished  as  a dangerous  person  ; and 
for  this  reason  meddled  not  at  all  with  state  affairs,  but  in 
military  service  showed  himself  of  a brave  and  intrepid 


PERICLES. 


*40 

nature.  But  when  Aristides  was  now  dead,  and  Themistocles 
driven  out,  and  Cimon  was  for  the  most  part  kept  abroad  by 
the  expeditions  he  made  in  parts  out  of  Greece,  Pericles,  s ie- 
ing  things  in  this  posture,  now  advanced  and  took  his  side, 
not  with  the  rich  and  few,  but  with  the  many  and  poor,  con- 
trary to  his  natural  bent,  which  was  far  from  democratical ; 
but,  most  likely  fearing  he  might  fall  under  suspicion  of  aim- 
ing at  arbitrary  power,  and  seeing  Cimon  on  the  side  of  the 
aristocracy,  and  much  beloved  by  the  better  and  more  distin- 
guished people,  he  joined  the  party  of  the  people,  with  a view 
at  once  both  to  secure  himself  and  procure  means  against 
Cimon. 

He  immediately  entered,  also,  on  quite  a new  course 
of  life  and  management  of  his  time.  For  he  was  never  seen 
to  walk  in  any  street  but  that  which  led  to  the  market- 
place and  the  council-hall,  and  he  avoided  invitations  of 
friends  to  supper,  and  all  friendly  visiting  and  intercourse 
whatever ; in  all  the  time  he  had  to  do  with  the  public,  which 
was  not  a little,  he  was  never  known  to  have  gone  to  any  of 
his  friends  to  a supper,  except  that  once  when  his  near  kins- 
man Euryptolemus  married,  he  remained  present  till  the  cere* 
mony  of  the  drink-offering,  and  then  immediately  rose  from 
table  and  went  his  way.  For  these  friendly  meetings  are  very 
quick  to  defeat  any  assumed  superiority,  and  in  intimate 
familiarity  an  exterior  of  gravity  is  hard  to  maintain.  Real 
excellence,  indeed,  is  most  recognized  when  most  openly 
looked  into ; and  in  really  good  men,  nothing  which  meets 
the  eyes  of  external  observers  so  truly  deserves  their  admira- 
tion, as  their  daily  common  life  does  that  of  their  nearer 
friends.  Pericles,  however,  to  avoid  any  feeling  of  common- 
ness, or  any  satiety  on  the  part  of  the  people,  presented  him- 
self at  intervals  only,  not  speaking  to  every  business,  nor  at 
all  times  coming  into  the  assembly,  but,  as  Critolaus  says, 
reserving  himself,  like  the  Salaminian  galley,  for  great  occa- 
sions, while  matters  of  lesser  importance  were  despatched  by 
friends  or  other  speakers  under  his  direction.  And  of  this 
number  we  are  told  Ephialtes  made  one,  who  broke  the 
power  of  the  council  of  Areopagus,  giving  the  people,  accord- 
ing to  Platons  expression,  so  copious  and  so  strong  a draught 
of  liberty,  that  growing  wild  and  unruly,  like  an  unmanageable 
horse,  it,  as  the  comic  poets  say, — 

** got  beyond  all  keeping  in, 

Champing  at  Euboea,  and  among  the  islands  leaping  in.” 


PERICLES. 


241 


The  style  of  speaking  most  consonant  to  his  form  of  life 
and  the  dignity  of  his  views  he  found,  so  to  say,  in  the  tones 
of  that  instrument  with  which  Anaxagoras  had  furnished  him  ; 
of  his  teaching  he  continually  availed  himself,  and  deepened 
the  colors  of  rhetoric  with  the  dye  of  natural  science.  For 
liaving,  in  addition  to  his  great  natural  genius,  attained,  by 
the  study  of  nature,  to  use  the  words  of  the  divine  Plato,  this 
height  of  intelligence,  and  this  universal  consummating  power, 
and  drawing  hence  whatever  might  oe  of  advantage  to  him  in 
the  art  of  speaking,  he  showed  himself  far  superior  to  all 
others.  Upon  which  account,  they  say,  he  had  his  nickname 
given  him,  though  some  are  of  opinion  he  was  named  the 
Olympian  from  the  public  buildings  with  which  he  adorned 
the  city ; and  others  again,  from  his  great  power  in  public 
affairs,  whether  of  war  or  peace.  Nor  is  it  unlikely  that  the 
confluence  of  many  attributes  may  have  conferred  it  on  him. 
However,  the  comedies  represented  at  the  time,  which,  both 
in  good  earnest  and  in  merriment,  let  fly  many  hard  words  at 
him,  plainly  show  that  he  got  that  appellation  especially  from 
his  speaking ; they  speak  of  his  “ thundering  and  lightning 
when  he  harangued  the  people,  and  of  his  wielding  a dreadful 
thunderbolt  in  his  tongue. 

A saying  also  of  Thucydides,  the  son  of  Melesias,  stands 
on  record,  spoken  by  him  by  way  of  pleasantry  upon  Pericleses 
dexterity.  Thucydides  was  one  of  the  noble  and  distin- 
guished citizens,  and  had  been  his  greatest  opponent ; and, 
when  Archidamus,  the  king  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  asked  him 
whether  he  or  Pericles  were  the  better  wrestler,  he  made  this 
answer : ‘‘  When  I,”  said  he,  “ have  thrown  him  and  given 
him  a fair  fall,  by  persisting  that  he  had  no  fall,  he  gets  the 
better  of  me,  and  makes  the  bystanders,  in  spite  of  their  own 
eyes,  believe  him.’^  The  truth,  however,  is,  that  Pericles 
himself  was  very  careful  what  and  how  he  was  to  speak, 
insomuch  that,  whenever  he  went  up  to  the  hustings,  he 
prayed  the  gods  that  no  one  word  might  unawares  slip  from 
hirm  unsuitable  to  the  matter  and  the  occasion. 

He  has  left  nothing  in  writing  behind  him,  except  some 
decrees  ; and  there  are  but  very  few  of  his  sayings  recorded  ; 
one,  for  example,  is,  that  he  said  Hilgina  must,  like  a gather- 
ing in  a man’s  eye,  be  removed  from  Piraeus  ; and  another,  that 
he  said  he  saw  already  war  moving  on  its  way  towards  them  out 
of  Peloponnesus.  Again,  when  on  a time  Sophocles,  who  was 
his  fellow-commissioner  in  the  generalship,  was  going  on 
board  with  him,  and  praised  the  beauty  of  a youth  they  mel 

16 


242 


PEKICLES. 


with  ill  the  way  to  the  ship,  “ Sophocles,^'  said  he,  “ a general 
ought  not  only  to  have  clean  hands,  but  also  clean  eyes.” 
And  Stesimbrotus  tells  us,  that,  in  his  encomium  on  those  who 
fell  in  battle  at  Samos,  he  said  they  were  become  immortal,  as 
the  gods  were.  “ For,”  said  he,  we  do  not  see  them  them- 
selves, but  only  by  the  honors  we  pay  them,  and  by  the  bene- 
fits they  do  us,  attribute  to  them  immortality ; and  the  like 
attributes  belong  also  to  those  that  die  in  the  service  of  their 
country.” 

Since  Thucydides  describes  the  rule  of  Pericles  as  an  aris- 
tocratical  government,  that  went  by  the  name  of  a democracy, 
but  was,  indeed,  the  supremacy  of  a single  great  man,  while 
many  others  say,  on  the  contrary,  that  by  him  the  common 
people  were  first  encouraged  and  led  on  to  such  evils  as 
appropriations  of  subject  territory ; allowances  for  attending 
theatres,  payments  for  performing  public  duties,  and  by  these 
bad  habits  were,  under  the  influence  of  his  public  measures, 
changed  from  a sober,  thrifty  people,  that  maintained  them- 
selves by  their  own  labors,  to  lovers  of  expense,  intemperance, 
and  license,  let  us  examine  the  cause  of  this  change  by 
the  actual  matters  of  fact. 

At  the  first,  as  has  been  said,  when  he  set  himself  against 
Cimon’s  great  authority,  he  did  caress  the  people.  Finding 
himself  come  short  of  his  competitor  in  wealth  and  money,  by 
which  advantages  the  other  was  enabled  to  take  care  of 
the  poor,  inviting  every  day  some  one  or  other  of  the  citizens 
that  was  in  want  to  supper,  and  bestowing  clothes  on  the  aged 
people,  and  breaking  down  the  hedges  and  enclosures  of  his 
grounds,  that  all  that  would  might  freely  gather  what  fruit  they 
pleased,  Pericles,  thus  outdone  in  popular  arts,  by  the  advice 
of  one  Damonides  of  (Ea,  as  Aristotle  states,  turned  to  the 
distribution  of  the  public  moneys  ; and  in  a short  time  having 
bought  the  people  over,  what  with  moneys  allowed  for  shows 
and  for  service  on  juries,  and  what  with  other  forms  of  pay 
and  largess,  he  made  use  of  them  against  the  council  of 
Areopagus,  of  which  he  himself  was  no  member,  as  having 
never  been  appointed  by  lot  either  chief  archon,  or  lawgiver, 
or  king,  or  captain.  For  from  of  old  these  offices  were 
conferred  on  persons  by  lot,  and  they  who  had  acquitted 
themselves  duly  in  the  discharge  of  them  were  advanced  to 
the  court  of  Areopagus.  And  so  Pericles,  having  secured  his 
power  and  interest  with  the  populace,  directed  the  exertions 
of  his  party  against  this  council  with  such  success,  that  mos^ 
of  these  causes  and  matters  which  had  been  used  to  be  triei. 


PERICLES. 


243 


Ihere,  were,  by  the  agency  of  Ephialtes,  removed  from  its  cog- 
nizance ; Cimon,  also,  was  banished  by  ostracism  as  a favorer 
of  the  Lacedaemonians  and  a hater  of  the  people,  though 
in  wealth  and  noble  birth  he  was  among  the  first,  and  had  won 
several  most  glorious  victories  over  the  barbarians,  and  had 
filled  the  city  with  money  and  spoils  of  war ; as  is  recorded  in 
the  history  of  his  life.  So  vast  an  authority  had  Pericles 
obtained  among  the  people. 

The  ostracism  was  limited  by  law  to  ten  years  ; but  the 
Lacedaemonians,  in  the  mean  time,  entering  with  a great  army 
into  the  territory  of  Tanagra,  and  the  Athenians  going  out 
against  them,  Cimon,  coming  from  his  banishment  before  his 
time  was  out,  put  himself  in  arms  and  array  with  those  of  his 
fellow-citizens  that  were  of  his  own  tribe,  and  desired  by  his 
deeds  to  wipe  off  the  suspicion  of  his  favoring  the  Lacedae- 
monians, by  venturing  his  own  person  along  with  his  country- 
men. But  Pericleses  friends,  gathering  in  a body,  forced  him 
to  retire  as  a banished  man.  For  which  cause  also  Pericles 
seems  to  have  exerted  himself  more  in  that  than  in  any  battle, 
and  to  have  been  conspicuous  above  all  for  his  exposure 
of  himself  to  danger.  All  Cimon’s  friends,  also,  to  a man,  fell 
together  side  by  side,  whom  Pericles  had  accused  with  him 
of  taking  part  with  the  Lacedaemonians.  Defeated  in  this 
battle  on  their  own  frontiers,  and  expecting  a new  and  peril- 
ous attack  with  return  of  spring,  the  Athenians  now  felt  regret 
and  sorrow  for  the  loss  of  Cimon,  and  repentance  for  their 
expulsion  of  him.  Pericles,  being  sensible  of  their  feelings, 
did  not  hesitate  or  delay  to  gratify  it,  and  himself  made  the 
motion  for  recalling  him  home.  He,  upon  his  return,  con- 
cluded a peace  betwixt  the  two  cities  ; for  the  Lacedaemonians 
entertained  as  kindly  feelings  towards  him  as  they  did  the 
reverse  towards  Pericles  and  the  other  popular  leaders. 

Yet  some  there  are  who  say  that  Pericles  did  not  propose 
the  order  for  Cimon's  return  till  some  private  articles  of 
agreement  had  been  made  between  them,  and  this  by  means 
of  Elpinice,  Cimon^s  sister  ; that  Cimon,  namely,  should  go 
out  to  sea  with  a fleet  of  two  hundred  ships,  and  be  com- 
mander-in-chief abroad,  with  a design  to  reduce  the  king 
of  Persia’s  territories,  and  that  Pericles  should  have  the 
power  at  home. 

This  Elpinice,  it  was  thought,  had  before  this  time  procured 
some  favor  for  her  brother  Cimon  at  Pericles’s  hands,  and  in- 
duced him  to  be  more  remiss  and  gentle  in  urging  the  charge 
when  Cimon  was  tried  for  his  life  ; for  Pericles  was  one  of  the 


244 


PERICLES. 


committee  appointed  by  the  commons  to  plead  against  him. 
And  when  Elpinice  came  and  besought  him  in  her  brother’s 
behalf,  he  answered,  with  a smile,  “ O Elpinice,  you  are  too 
old  a woman  to  undertake  such  business  as  this.”  But,  when 
he  appeared  to  impeach  him,  he  stood  up  but  once  to  speak, 
merely  to  acquit  himself  of  his  commission,  and  went  out  of 
court,  having  done  Cimon  the  least  prejudice  of  any  of  his  ac- 
cusers. 

How,  then,  can  one  believe  Idomeneus,  who  charges 
l^ericles  as  if  he  had  by  treachery  procured  the  murder  of 
Ephialtes,  the  popular  statesman,  one  who  was  his  friend,  and 
of  his  own  party  in  all  his  political  course,  out  of  jealousy, 
forsooth,  and  envy  of  his  great  reputation  ? This  historian, 
it  seems,  having  raked  up  these  stories,  I know  not  whence, 
has  befouled  with  them  a man  who,  perchance,  was  not  alto- 
gether free  from  fault  or  blame,  but  yet  had  a noble  spirit,  and 
a soul  that  was  bent  on  honor  ; and  where  such  qualities  are, 
there  can  no  such  cruel  and  brutal  passion  find  harbor  or 
gain  admittance.  As  to  Ephialtes,  the  truth  of  the  story,  as 
Aristotle  has  told  it,  is  this  ; that  having  made  himself  for- 
midable to  the  oligarchical  party,  by  being  an  uncompromis- 
ing asserter  of  the  people’s  rights  in  calling  to  account  and 
prosecuting  those  who  any  way  wronged  them,  his  enemies, 
lying  in  wait  for  him,  by  the  means  of  Aristodicus  the  Tana- 
graean,  privately  despatched  him. 

Cimon,  while  he  was  admiral,  ended  his  days  in  the  Isle 
of  Cyprus.  And  the  aristocratical  party,  seeing  that  Pericles 
was  already  before  this  grown  to  be  the  greatest  and  foremost 
man  of  all  the  city,  but  nevertheless  wishing  there  should  be 
somebody  set  up  against  him,  to  blunt  and  turn  the  edge  of 
his  power,  that  it  might  not  altogether  prove  a monarchy,  put 
forward  Thucydides  of  Alopece,  a discreet  person,  and  a near 
kinsman  of  Cimon’s,  to  conduct  the  opposition  against  him  ; 
who,  indeed,  though  less  skilled  in  warlike  alfairs  than  Cimon 
was,  yet  was  better  versed  in  speaking  and  political  busi- 
ifiess.  and  keeping  close  guard  in  the  city,  and  engaging  with 
Pericles  on  the  hustings,  in  a short  time  brought  the  govern- 
ment to  an  equality  of  parties.  For  he  would  not  suffer  those 
who  were  called  the  honest  and  good  (persons  of  worth  and 
distinction)  to  be  scattered  up  and  down  and  mix  themselves 
and  be  lost  among  the  populace,  as  formerly,  diminishing  and 
obscuring  their  superiority  amongst  the  masses  ; but  taking 
them  apart  by  themselves  and  uniting  them  in  one  body,  by 
their  combined  weight  he  was  able,  as  it  were  upon  the  bal 
ance,  to  make  a counterpoise  to  the  other  party. 


PERICLES. 


245 


For,  indeed,  there  was  from  the  beginning  a sort  of  con- 
cealed split,  or  seam,  as  it  might  be  in  a piece  of  iron,  mark- 
ing the  different  popular  and  aristocratical  tendencies ; but 
the  open  rivalry  and  contention  of  these  two  opponents  made 
the  gash  deep,  and  severed  the  city  into  the  two  parties  of  the 
people  and  the  few.  And  so  Pericles,  at  that  time  more  than 
^ at  any  other,  let  loose  the  reins  to  the  people,  and  made  his 
policy  subservient  to  their  pleasure,  contriving  continually  to 
have  some  great  public  show  or  solemnity,  some  banquet,  or 
some  procession  or  other  in  the  town  to  please  them,  coaxing 
his  countrymen  like  children,  with  such  delights  and  pleasures 
as  were  not,  however,  unedifying.  Besides  that  every  year 
he  sent  out  threescore  galleys,  on  board  of  which  there  went 
numbers  of  the  citizens,  who  were  in  pay  eight  months,  learn- 
ing at  the  same  time  and  practising  the  art  of  seamanship. 

He  sent,  moreover,  a thousand  of  them  into  the  Cherso- 
nese as  planters,  to  share  the  land  among  them  by  lot,  and 
five  hundred  more  into  the  isle  of  Naxos,  and  half  that  num- 
ber to  Andros,  a thousand  into  Thrace  to  dwell  among  the 
Bisaltce,  and  others  into  Italy,  when  the  city  Sybaris,  which 
now  was  called  Thurii,  was  to  be  repeopled.  And  this  he 
did  to  ease  and  discharge  the  city  of  an  idle,  and,  by  reason 
of  their  idleness,  a busy,  meddling  crowd  of  people ; and  at 
the  same  time  to  meet  the  necessities  and  restore  the  fortunes 
of  the  poor  townsmen,  and  to  intimidate,  also,  and  check 
their  allies  from  attempting  any  change,  by  posting  such  gar- 
risons, as  it  were,  in  the  midst  of  them. 

That  which  gave  most  pleasure  and  ornament  to  the  city 
of  Athens,  and  the  greatest  admiration  and  even  astonish- 
ment to  all  strangers,  and  that  which  now  is  Greece’s  only 
evidence  that  the  power  she  boasts  of  and  her  ancient  wealth 
are  no  romance  or  idle  story,  was  his  construction  of  the  pub- 
lic and  sacred  buildings.  Yet  this  was  that  of  all  his  actions 
in  the  government  which  his  enemies  most  looked  askance 
upon  and  cavilled  at  in  the  popular  assemblies,  crying  out 
how  that  the  commonwealth  of  Athens  had  lost  its  reputation 
and  was  ill-spoken  of  abroad  for  removing  the  common  treas- 
ure of  the  Greeks  from  the  isle  of  Delos  into  their  own  cus- 
tody ; and  how  that  their  fairest  excuse  for  so  doing,  narnely, 
that  they  took  it  away  for  fear  the  barbarians  should  seize  it, 
and  on  purpose  to  secure  it  in  a safe  place,  this  Pericles  had 
made  unavailable,  and  how  that  “ Greece  cannot  but  resent  it 
as  an  insufferable  affront,  and  consider  herself  to  be  tyran- 
nized over  openly,  when  she  sees  the  treasure,  which  wa» 


246 


PERICLES. 


contributed  by  her  upon  a necessity  for  the  war,  wantonly 
lavished  out  by  us  upon  our  city,  to  gild  her  all  over,  and  to 
adorn  and  set  her  forth,  as  it  were  some  vain  woman,  hung 
round  with  precious  stones  and  figures  and  temples,  which 
cost  a world  of  money.’’ 

Pericles,  on  the  other  hand,  informed  the  people,  that 
they  were  in  no  way  obliged  to  give  any  account  of  those 
moneys  to  their  allies,  so  long  as  they  maintained  their  de- 
fence, and  kept  off  the  barbarians  from  attacking  them  ; while 
in  the  mean  flme  they  did  not  so  much  as  supply  one  horse 
or  man  or  ship,  but  only  found  money  for  the  service  ; which 
money,”  said  he,  “ is  not  theirs  that  give  it,  but  theirs  that  re- 
ceive it,  if  so  be  they  perform  the  conditions  upon  which  they 
receive  it.”  And  that  it  was  good  reason,  that,  now  the  city 
was  sufficiently  provided  and  stored  with  all  things  necessary 
for  the  war,  they  should  convert  the  overplus  of  its  wealth  to 
such  undertakings  as  would  hereafter,  when  completed,  give 
them  eternal  honor,  and,  for  the  present,  while  in  process, 
freely  supply  all  the  inhabitants  with  plenty.  With  their 
variety  of  workmanship  and  of  occasions  for  service,  which 
summon  all  arts  and  trades  and  require  all  hands  to  be  em- 
ployed about  them,  they  do  actually  put  the  whole  city,  in  a 
manner,  into  state-pay  ; while  at  the  same  time  she  is  both 
beautified  and  maintained  by  herself.  For  as  those  who  are 
of  age  and  strength  for  war  are  provided  for  and  maintained 
in  the  armaments  abroad  by  their  pay  out  of  the  public  stock, 
so,  it  being  his  desire  and  design  that  the  undisciplined 
mechanic  multitude  that  stayed  at  home  should  not  go  with- 
out their  share  of  public  salaries,  and  yet  should  not  have 
them  given  them  for  sitting  still  and  doing  nothing,  to  that 
end  he  thought  fit  to  bring  in  among  them,  with  the  approba- 
tion of  the  people,  these  vast  projects  of  buildings  and  de- 
signs of  works,  that  would  be  of  some  continuance  before 
they  were  finished,  and  would  give  employment  to  numerous 
arts,  so  that  the  part  of  the  people  that  stayed  at  home  might, 
no  less  than  those  that  were  at  sea  or  in  garrisons  or  on  expe- 
ditions, have  a fair  and  just  occasion  of  receiving  the  benefit 
and  having  their  share  of  the  public  moneys. 

The  materials  were  stone,  brass,  ivory,  gold,  ebony,  cypress- 
wood  j and  the  arts  or  trades  that  wrought  and  fashioned 
them  were  smiths  and  carpenters,  moulders,  founders  and 
braziers,  stone-cutters,  dyers,  goldsmiths,  ivory-workers,  paint- 
ers, embroiderers,  turners  ; those  again  that  conveyed  them  to 
the  town  for  use,  merchants  and  mariners  and  ship-masters 


PERICLES. 


247 


by  sea,  and  by  land,  Cartwrights,  cattle-breeders,  wagoners, 
rope-makers,  flax-workers,  shoemakers  and  leather-dressers, 
road-makers,  miners.  And  every  trade  in  the  same  nature,  as 
a captain  in  an  army  has  his  particular  company  of  soldiers 
under  him,  had  its  own  hired  company  of  journeymen  and 
laborers  belonging  to  it  banded  together  as  in  array,  to  be  as 
it  were  the  instrument  and  body  for  the  performance  of  the 
service.  Thus,  to  say  all  in  a word,  the  occasions  and  ser- 
vices of  these  public  works  distributed  plenty  through  every 
age  and  condition. 

As  then  grew  the  works  up,  no  less  stately  in  size  than  ex- 
quisite in  form,  the  workmen  striving  to  outvie  the  material 
and  the  design  with  the  beauty  of  their  workmanship,  yet  the 
most  wonderful  thing  of  all  was  the  rapidity  of  their  execu- 
tion. Undertakings,  any  one  of  which  singly  might  have 
required,  they  thought,  for  their  completion,  several  succes- 
sions and  ages  of  men,  were  every  one  of  them  accomplished 
in  the  height  and  prime  of  one  man’s  political  service.  Although 
they  say,  too,  that  Zeuxis  once,  having  heard  Agatharchus  the 
painter  boast  of  despatching  his  work  with  speed  and  ease, 
replied,  ‘‘  I take  a long  time.”  For  ease  and  speed  in  doing 
a thing  do  not  give  the  work  lasting  solidity  or  exactness  of 
beauty ; the  expenditure  of  time  allowed  to  a man’s  pains 
beforehand  for  the  production  of  a thing  is  repaid  by  way  of 
interest  with  a vital  force  for  the  preservation  when  once  pro- 
duced. For  which  reason  Pericles’s  works  are  especially  ad- 
mired, as  having  been  made  quickly,  to  last  long.  For  every 
particular  piece  of  his  work  was  immediately,  even  at  that 
time,  for  its  beauty  and  elegance,  antique  ; and  yet  in  its 
vigor  and  freshness  looks  to  this  day  as  if  it  were  just  execu- 
ted. There  is  a sort  of  bloom  of  newness  upon  those  works 
of  his,  preserving  them  from  the  touch  of  time,  as  if  they  had 
some  perennial  spirit  and  undying  vitality  mingled  in  the 
CQ  mj^osition  of  them. 

Phidias  had  the  oversight  of  all  the  works,  and  was  sur- 
reyor-general,  though  upon  the  various  portions  other  great 
masters  and  workmen  were  employed.  For  Callicrates  and 
Ictinus  built  the  Parthenon  ; tlie  chapel  at  Eleusis,  where  the 
mysteries  were  celebrated,  was  begun  by  Coroebus,  who  erect- 
ed the  pillars  that  stand  upon  the  floor  or  pavement,  and 
joined  them  to  the  architraves  ; and  after  his  death  Metagenes 
of  Xypete  added  the  frieze  and  the  upper  line  of  columns  , 
Xenocles  of  Cholargus  roofed  or  arched  the  lantern  on  top  of 
the  temple  of  Castor  and  Pollux  ; and  the  long  wall,  which 


/ 


248  PERICLES. 

Socrates  says  he  himself  heard  Pericles  propose  to  the  people, 
was  undertaken  by  Callicrates.  This  work  Cratinus  ridicules, 
as  long  in  finishing, — 

’Tis  long  since  Pericles,  if  words  would  do  it, 

Talked  up  the  wall;  yet  adds  not  one  mite  to  it. 

The  Odeum,  or  music-room,  which  in  its  interior  was  full 
of  seats  and  ranges  of  pillars,  and  outside  had  its  roof  made 
to  slope  and  descend  from  one  single  point  at  the  top,  was 
constructed,  we  are  told,  in  imitation  of  the  king  of  Persia’s 
Pavilion ; this  likewise  by  Pericles’s  order  ; which  Cratinus 
again,  in  his  comedy  called  the  Thracian  Women,  made  an 
occasion  of  raillery, — 

So,  we  see  here, 

Jupiter  Long-pate  Pericles  appear. 

Since  ostracism  time,  he’s  laid  aside  his  head. 

And  wears  the  new  Odeum  in  its  stead. 

Pericles,  also  eager  for  distinction,  then  first  obtained  the 
decree  for  a contest  in  musical  skill  to  be  held  yearly  at  the 
Panathencea,  and  he  himself,  being  chosen  judge,  arranged 
the  order  and  method  in  which  the  competitors  should  5ing 
and  play  on  the  flute  and  on  the  harp.  And  both  at  that 
time,  and  at  other  times  also,  they  sat  in  this  music-room  to 
see  and  hear  all  such  trials  of  skill. 

The  propylaea,  or  entrances  to  the  Acropolis,  were  finished 
in  five  years’  time,  Mnesicles  being  the  principal  architect. 
A strange  accident  happened  in  the  course  of  building,  which 
showed  that  the  goddess  was  not  averse  to  the  work,  but  was 
aiding  and  cooperating  to  bring  it  to  perfection.  One  of  the 
artificers,  the  quickest  and  the  handiest  workman  among  them 
all,  with  a slip  of  his  foot  fell  down  from  a great  height,  and 
lay  in  a miserablv.  condition,  the  physicians  having  no  hopes 
of  his  recovery.  When  Pericles  was  in  distress  about  this, 
Minerva  appeared  to  him  at  night  in  a dream,  and  ordered  a 
course  of  treatment,  which  he  applied,  and  in  a short  time 
and  with  great  ease  cured  the  man.  And  upon  this  occasion 
it  was  that  he  set  up  a brass  statue  of  Minerva,  surnamed 
Health,  in  the  citadel  near  the  altar,  which  they  say  was  there 
before.  Put  it  was  Phidias  who  wrought  the  goddess’s  image 
in  gold,  and  he  has  his  name  inscribed  on  the  pedestal  as  the 
workman  of  it ; and  indeed  the  whole  work  in  a manner  was 
under  his  charge,  and  he  had,  as  we  have  said  already,  the 
oversight  over  all  the  artists  and  workmen,  through  Pericles’s 


PERICLES. 


2 19 

friendship  for  him  ; and  this,  indeed,  made  him  much  envied, 
and  his  patron  shamefully  slandered  with  stories,  as  if  Phid 
ias  were  in  the  habit  of  receiving,  for  Pericles’s  use,  freeborn 
women  that  came  to  see  the  works.  The  comic  writers  of  the 
town,  when  they  had  got  hold  of  this  story,  made  much  of  it, 
and  bespattered  him  with  all  the  ribaldry  they  could  invent, 
charging  him  falsely  with  the  wife  of  Menippus,  one  who  was 
liis  friend  and  served  as  lieutenant  under  him  in  the  wars  ; 
and  with  the  birds  kept  by  Pyrilampes,  an  acquaintance  of 
Pericles,  who,  they  pretended,  used  to  give  presents  of  pea- 
cocks to  Pericles’s  female  friends.  And  how  can  one  wonder 
at  any  number  of  strange  assertions  from  men  whose  whole 
lives  were  devoted  to  mockery,  and  who  were  ready  at  any 
time  to  sacrifice  the  reputation  of  their  superiors  to  vulgar 
envy  and  spite,  as  to  some  evil  genius,  when  even  Stesimbro- 
tus  the  Thrasian  has  dared  to  lay  to  the  charge  of  Pericles  a 
monstrous  and  fabulous  piece  of  criminality  with  his  son’s 
wife  ? So  very  difficult  a matter  is  it  to  trace  and  find  out 
the  truth  of  any  thing  by  history,  when,  on  the  one  hand,  those 
who  afterwards  write  it  find  long  periods  of  time  intercepting 
their  view,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  contemporary  records 
of  any  actions  and  lives,  partly  through  envy  and  ill-will,  'tart- 
ly through  favor  and  flattery,  pervert  and  distort  truth. 

When  the  orators,  who  sided  with  Thucydides  and  his 
party,  were  at  one  time  crying  out,  as  their  custom  was,  against 
Pericles,  as  one  who  squandered  away  the  public  money,  and 
made  havoc  of  the  state  revenues,  he  rose  in  the  open  assem- 
bly and  put  the  question  to  the  people,  whether  they  thought 
that  he  had  laid  out  much  ; and  they  saying,  ‘‘  Too  much,  a 
great  deal,”  “Then,”  said  he,  “since  it  is  so,  let  the  cost  not 
go  to  your  account,  but  to  mine ; and  let  the  inscription  upon 
the  buildings  stand  in  my  name.”  When  they  heard  him  say 
thus,  whether  it  were  out  of  a surprise  to  see  the  greatness  of 
his  spirit,  or  out  of  emulation  of  the  glory  of  the  works,  they 
cried  alo  id,  bidding  him  to  spend  on,  and  lay  out  what  he 
thought  fit  from  the  public  purse,  and  to  spare  no  cost,  till  all 
were  finished. 

At  length,  coming  to  a final  contest  with  Thucydides, 
which  of  the  two  should  ostracize  the  other  out  of  the  country, 
and  having  gone  through  this  peril,  he  threw  his  antagonist 
out,  and  broke  up  the  confederacy  that  had  been  organized 
against  him.  So  that  now  all  schism  and  division  being  at  an 
end,  and  the  city  brought  to  evenness  and  unity,  he  got  all 
Athens  ind  all  affairs  that  pertained  to  the  Athenians  into 


PERICLES. 


his  own  hands,  their  tributes,  their  armies,  and  their  galleyS; 
the  islands,  the  sea,  and  their  wide-extended  power,  partly 
over  other  Greeks  and  partly  over  barbarians,  and  all  that 
empire,  which  they  possessed,  founded  and  fortified  upon  sub- 
ject nations  and  royal  friendships  and  alliances. 

After  this  he  was  no  longer  the  same  man  he  had  been  be- 
fore, nor  as  tame  and  gentle  and  familiar  as  formerly  with  the 
populace,  so  as  readily  to  yield  to  their  pleasures  and  to  com- 
ply with  the  desires  of  the  multitude,  as  a steersman  shifts 
with  the  winds.  Quitting  that  loose,  remiss,  and,  in  some 
cases,  licentious  court  of  the  popular  will,  he  turned  those 
soft  and  flowery  modulations  to  the  austerity  of  aristocratical 
and  regal  rule  ; and  employing  this  uprightly  and  undevia- 
tingly  for  the  country’s  best  interests  he  was  able  generally  to 
lead  the  people  along,  with  their  own  wills  and  consents,  by 
persuading  and  showing  them  what  was  to  be  done ; and 
sometimes,  too,  urging  and  pressing  them  forward  extremely 
against  their  will,  he  made  them,  whether  they  would  or  no. 
yield  submission  to  what  was  for  their  advantage.  In  which, 
to  say  the  truth,  he  did  but  like  a skilful  physician,  who,  in  a 
complicated  and  chronic  disease,  as  he  sees  occasion,  at  one 
while  allows  his  patient  the  moderate  use  of  such  things  as 
please  him,  at  another  while  gives  him  keen  pains  and  drugs 
to  work  the  cure.  For  there  arising  and  growing  up,  as  was 
natural,  all  manner  of  distempered  feelings  among  a people 
which  had  so  vast  a command  and  dominion,  he  alone,  as  a 
great  master,  knowing  how  to  handle  and  deal  fitly  with  each 
one  of  them,  and,  in  an  especial  manner,  making  that  use  of 
hopes  and  fears,  as  his  two  chief  rudders,  with  the  one  to 
check  the  career  of  their  confidence  at  any  time,  with  the 
other  to  raise  them  up  and  cheer  them  when  under  any  dis- 
couragement, plainly  showed  by  this,  that  rhetoric,  or  the  art 
of  speaking,  is,  in  Plato’s  language,  the  government  of  the 
souls  of  men,  and  that  her  chief  business  is  to  address  the 
affections  and  passions,  which  are  as  it  were  the  strings  and 
keys  to  the  soul,  and  require  a skilful  and  careful  touch  to  be 
played  on  as  they  should  be.  The  source  of  this  predomi- 
nance was  not  barely  his  power  of  language,  but,  as  Thucy- 
dides assures  us,  the  reputation  of  his  life,  and  the  confidence 
felt  in  his  character ; his  manifest  freedom  from  every  kind 
of  corruption,  and  superiority  to  all  considerations  of  money. 
Notwithstanding  he  had  made  the  city  Athens,  which  was 
great  of  itself,  as  great  and  rich  as  can  be  imagined,  and 
though  he  were  himself  in  power  and  interest  more  than  equal 


PERICLES. 


251 


to  many  kings  and  absolute  rulers,  who  some  of  them  also 
bequeathed  by  will  their  power  to  their  children,  he,  for  his 
part,  did  not  make  the  patrimony  his  father  left  him  greater 
than  it  was  by  one  drachma. 

Thucydides,  indeed,  gives  a plain  statement  of  the  great- 
ness of  his  power  ; and  the  comic  poets,  in  their  spiteful  man- 
ner, more  than  hint  at  it,  styling  his  companions  and  friends 
^ the  new  Pisistratidae,  and  calling  on  him  to  abjure  any  inten- 
tion of  usurpation,  as  one  whose  eminence  was  too  great  to 
be  any  longer  proportionable  to  and  compatible  with  a de- 
mocracy or  popular  government.  And  Teleclides  says  the 
Athenians  had  surrendered  up  to  him — 

The  tribute  of  the  cities,  and  with  them,  the  cities  too,  to  do  with  them 
as  he  pleases,  and  undo  ; 

To  build  up,  if  he  likes,  stone  walls  around  a town  ; and  again,  if  so  he 
likes,  to  pull  them  down ; 

Their  treaties  and  alliances,  power,  empire,  peace,  and  war,  their  wealth 
and  their  success  forever  more. 

Nor  was  all  this  the  luck  of  some  happy  occasion  ; nor 
was  it  the  mere  bloom  and  grace  of  a policy  that  flourished 
for  a season  ; but  having  for  forty  years  together  maintained 
the  first  place  among  statesmen  such  as  Ephialtes  and  Leo- 
crates  and  Myronides  and  Cimon  and  Tolmides  and  Thucy- 
dides were,  after  the  defeat  and  banishment  of  Thucydides, 
for  no  less  than  fifteen  years  longer,  in  the  exercise  of  one 
continuous  unintermitted  command  in  the  office,  to  which  he 
was  annually  reelected,  of  General,  he  preserved  his  integrity 
unspotted  ; though  otherwise  he  was  not  altogether  idle  or 
careless  in  looking  after  his  pecuniary  advantage  ; his  pater- 
nal estate,  which  of  right  belonged  to  him,  he  so  ordered  that 
it  might  neither  through  negligence  be  wasted  or  lessened, 
nor  yet,  being  so  full  of  business  as  he  was,  cost  him  any 
great  trouble  or  time  with  taking  care  of  it  ; and  put  it  into 
such  a way  of  management  as  he  thought  to  be  the  most  easy 
for  himself,  and  the  most  exact.  All  his  yearly  products  and 
profits  he  sold  together  in  a lump,  and  supplied  his  household 
needs  afterwards  by  buying  every  thing  that  he  or  his  family 
wanted  out  of  the  market.  Upon  which  account,  his  children, 
when  they  grew  to  age,  were  not  well  pleased  with  his  man- 
agement, and  the  women  that  lived  with  him  were  treated 
with  little  cost,  and  complained  of  this  way  of  housekeeping, 
where  every  thing  was  ordered  and  set  down  from  day  to  day, 
and  reduced  to  the  greatest  exactness  ; since  there  was  not 
there,  as  is  usual  in  a great  family  and  a plentiful  estate,  an) 


«S2 


PERICLES, 


thing  to  spare,  or  over  and  above  ; but  all  that  went  out  or 
came  in,  all  disbursements  and  all  receipts,  proceeded  as  it 
were  by  number  and  measure.  His  manager  in  all  this  was 
a single  servant,  Evangelus  by  name,  a man  either  naturally 
gifted  or  instructed  by  Pericles  so  as  to  excel  every  one  in  this 
art  of  domestic  economy. 

All  this,  in  truth,  was  very  little  in  harmony  with  Anax- 
agorases wisdom  ; if,  indeed,  it  be  true  that  he,  by  a kind  ol 
divine  impulse  and  greatness  of  spirit,  voluntarily  quitted  his 
house,  and  left  his  land  to  lie  fallow  and  to  be  grazed  by 
sheep  like  a common.  But  the  life  of  a contemplative  phi- 
losopher and  that  of  an  active  statesman  are,  I presume,  not 
the  same  thing ; for  the  one  merely  employs,  upon  great  and 
good  objects  of  thought,  an  intelligence  that  requires  no  aid 
of  instruments  nor  supply  of  any  external  materials ; whereas 
the  other,  who  tempers  and  applies  his  virtue  to  human  uses, 
may  have  occasion  for  affluence,  not  as  a matter  of  mere  ne- 
cessit}’’,  but  as  a noble  thing ; which  was  Pericles’s  case,  who 
relieved  numerous  poor  citizens. 

However,  there  is  a story,  that  Anaxagoras  himself,  while 
Pericles  was  taken  up  with  public  affairs,  lay  neglected,  and 
that,  now  being  grown  old,  he  wrapped  himself  up  with  a res- 
olution to  die  for  want  of  food ; which  being  by  chance 
brought  to  Pericles’s  ear,  he  was  horror-struck,  and  instantly 
ran  thither,  and  used  all  the  arguments  and  entreaties  he 
could  to  him,  lamenting  not  so  much  Anaxagoras’s  condition 
as  his  own,  should  he  lose  such  a counsellor  as  he  had  found 
him  to  be  ; and  that,  upon  this,  Anaxagoras  unfolded  his 
robe,  and  showing  himself,  made  answer  : “ Pericles,”  said  he, 
“ even  those  who  have  occasion  for  a lamp  supply  it  with  oil.’’ 

The  Lacedaemonians  beginning  to  show  themselves  troub- 
led at  the  growth  of  the  Athenian  power,  Pericles,  on  the 
other  hand,  to  elevate  the  people’s  spirit  yet  more,  and  to 
raise  them  to  the  thought  of  great  actions,  proposed  a decree, 
to  summon  all  the  Greeks  in  what  part  soever,  whether  of  Eu- 
rope or  Asia,  every  city,  little  as  well  as  great,  to  send  theii 
deputies  to  Athens  to  a general  assembly,  or  convention,  there 
to  consult  and  advise  concerning  the  Greek  temples  which 
the  barbarians  had  burnt  down,  and  the  sacrifices  which  were 
due  from  them  upon  vows  they  had  made  to  their  gods  for  the 
safety  of  Greece  when  they  fought  against  the  barbarians; 
and  also  concerning  the  navigation  of  the  sea,  that  they  might 
henceforward  all  of  them  pass  to  and  fro  and  trade  securely 
and  be  at  peace  among  themselves. 


PERICLES. 


253 


Upon  this  errand  there  were  twenty  men,  of  such  as  were 
above  fifty  years  of  age,  sent  by  commission  ; five  to  summon 
the  lonians  and  Dorians  in  Asia,  and  the  islanders  as  far  as 
Lesbos  and  Rhodes  ; five  to  visit  all  the  places  in  the  Helles- 
pont and  Thrace,  up  to  Byzantium ; and  other  five  besides 
these  to  go  to  Boeotia  and  Phocis  and  Peloponnesus,  and  from 
hence  to  pass  through  the  Locrians  over  to  the  neighboring 
continent  as  far  as  Acarnania  and  Ambracia  ; and  the  rest  to 
take  their  course  through  Euboea  to  the  (Etaeans  and  the 
Malian  Gulf,  and  to  the  Achseans  of  Phthiotis  and  the  Thes- 
salians ; all  of  them  to  treat  with  the  people  as  they  passed, 
and  to  persuade  them  to  come  and  take  their  part  in  the  de- 
bates for  settling  the  peace  and  jointly  regulating  the  affairs 
of  Greece. 

Nothing  was  effected,  nor  did  the  cities  meet  by  their 
deputies,  as  was  desired  ; the  Lacedaemonians,  as  it  is  said, 
crossing  the  design  underhand,  and  the  attempt  being  disap- 
pointed and  baffled  first  in  Peloponnesus.  I thought  fit,  how- 
ever, to  introduce  the  mention  of  it,  to  show  the  spirit  of  the 
man  and  the  greatness  of  his  thoughts. 

In  his  military  conduct,  he  gained  a great  reputation  for 
wariness ; he  would  not  by  his  good-will  engage  in  any  fight 
which  had  much  uncertainty  or  hazard  ; he  did  not  envy  the 
glory  of  generals  whose  rash  adventures  fortune  favored  with 
brilliant  success,  however  they  were  admired  by  others;  nor 
did  he  think  them  worthy  his  imitation,  but  always  used  to  say 
to  his  citizens  that,  so  far  as  lay  in  his  power,  they  should 
continue  immortal,  and  live  forever.  Seeing  Tolmides,  the 
son  of  Tolmaeus,  upon  the  confidence  of  his  former  successes, 
and  flushed  with  the  honor  his  military  actions  had  procured 
him,  making  preparations  to  attack  the  Boeotians  in  their  own 
country  when  there  was  no  likely  opportunity,  and  that  he 
had  prevailed  with  the  bravest  and  most  enterprising  of  the 
youth  to  enlist  themselves  as  volunteers  in  the  service,  who 
besides  his  other  force  made  up  a thousand,  he  endeavored  to 
withhold  him  and  to  advise  him  from  it  in  the  public  assem- 
bly, telling  him  in  a memorable  saying  of  his,  which  still  goes 
about,  that,  if  he  would  not  take  Pericles’s  advice,  yet  he 
would  not  CO  amiss  to  wait  and  be  ruled  by  time,  the  wisest 
counsellor  of  all.  This  saying,  at  that  time,  was  but  slightly 
commended  ; but  within  a few  days  after,  when  news  was 
brought  that  Tolmides  himself  had  been  defeated  and  slain  in 
battle  near  Coronea,  and  that  many  brave  citizens  had  fallen 
with  him,  it  gained  him  great  repute  as  well  as  good-will 


254 


PERICLES. 


among  the  people,  for  wisdom  and  for  love  of  his  country- 
men. 

But  of  all  his  expeditions,  that  to  the  Chersonese  gave 
most  satisfaction  and  pleasure,  having  proved  the  safety  of 
the  Greeks  who  inhabited  there.  For  not  only  by  carrying 
along  with  him  a thousand  fresh  citizens  of  Athens  he  gave 
new  strength  and  vigor  to  the  cities,  but  also  by  belting  the 
neck  of  land,  which  joins  the  peninsula  to  the  continent  with 
bulwarks  and  forts  from  sea  to  sea,  he  put  a stop  to  the 
inroads  of  the  Thracians,  who  lay  all  about  the  Chersonese^ 
and  closed  the  door  against  a continual  and  grievous  war, 
with  which  that  country  had  been  long  harassed,  lying  exposed 
to  the  encroachments  and  influx  of  barbarous  neighbors,  and 
groaning  under  the  evils  of  a predatory  population  both  upon 
and  within  its  borders. 

Nor  was  he  less  admired  and  talked  of  abroad  for  his 
sailing  around  the  Peloponnesus,  having  set  out  from  Pegae, 
or  The  Fountains,  the  port  of  Megara,  with  a hundred  gal- 
leys. For  he  not  only  laid  waste  the  sea-coast,  as  Tolmides 
had  done  before,  but  also,  advancing  far  up  into  the  main  land 
with  the  soldiers  he  had  onboard, by  the  terror  of  his  appear- 
ance drove  many  within  their  walls ; and  at  Nemea,  with  main 
force,  routed  and  raised  a trophy  over  the  Sicyonians,  who 
stood  their  ground  and  joined  battle  with  him.  And  having 
taken  on  board  a supply  of  soldiers  into  the  galleys,  out  of 
Achaia,  then  in  league  with  Athens,  he  crossed  with  the  fleet 
to  the  opposite  continent,  and,  sailing  along  by  the  mouth 
of  the  river  Achelous,  overran  Acarnania  and  shut  up  the 
CEniadce  within  their  city  walls,  and  having  ravaged  and 
wasted  their  country,  weighed  anchor  for  home  with  the 
double  advantage  of  having  shown  himself  formidable  to  his 
enemies,  and  at  the  same  time  safe  and  energetic  to  his  fellow- 
citizens  ; for  there  was  not  so  much  as  any  chance  miscarriage 
that  happened,  the  whole  voyage  through,  to  those  who  were 
under  his  charge. 

Entering  also  the  Euxine  Sea  with  a large  and  finely 
equipped  fleet,  he  obtained  for  the  Greek  cities  any  new  ar- 
rangements they  wanted,  and  entered  into  friendly  relations 
with  them  ; and  to  the  barbarous  nations,  and  kings  and 
chiefs  round  about  them,  displayed  the  greatness  of  the  power 
of  the  Athenians,  their  perfect  ability  and  confidence  to  sail 
wherever  they  had  a mind,  and  to  bring  the  whole  sea  under 
their  control.  He  left  the  Sinopians  thirteen  ships  of  war, 
with  soldiers  under  the  command  of  Lamachus,  to  assist  them 


PERICLES. 


255 


against  Timesileus  the  tyrant ; and  when  he  and  his  accom 
plices  had  been  thrown  out,  obtained  a decree  that  six  hundred 
of  the  Athenians  that  were  willing  should  sail  to  Sinope  and 
plant  themselves  there  with  the  Sinopians,  sharing  among 
them  the  houses  and  land  which  the  tyrant  and  his  party  had 
previously  held. 

But  in  other  things  he  did  not  comply  with  the  giddy  im- 
pulses of  the  citizens,  nor  quit  his  own  resolutions  to  follow 
their  fancies,  when,  carried  away  with  the  thought  of  their 
strength  and  great  success,  they  were  eager  to  interfere  again 
in  Egypt,  and  to  disturb  the  king  of  Persia’s  maritime  do- 
minions. Nay,  there  were  a good  many  who  were,  even  then, 
possessed  with  that  unblest  and  inauspicious  passion  for 
Sicily,  which  afterward  the  orators  of  Alcibiades’s  party  blew 
up  into  a flame.  There  were  some  also  who  dreamt  of  Tus- 
cany and  Carthage,  and  not  without  plausible  reason  in  their 
present  large  dominion  and  prosperous  course  of  their  affairs 

But  Pericles  curbed  this  passion  for  foreign  conquest,  and 
unsparingly  pruned  and  cut  down  their  ever  busy  fancies  for  a 
multitude  of  undertakings ; and  directed  their  power  for  the 
most  part  to  securing  and  consolidating  what  they  had  already 
got,  supposing  it  would  be  quite  enough  for  them  to  do,  if 
they  could  keep  the  Lacedaemonians  in  check;  to  whom  he 
entertained  all  along  a sense  of  opposition ; which,  as  upon 
many  other  occasions,  so  he  particularly  shov/ed  by  what  he 
did  in  the  time  of  the  holy  war.  The  Lacedaemonians,  having 
gone  with  an  army  to  Delphi,  restored  Apollo’s  temple,  which 
the  Phocians  had  got  into  their  possession,  to  the  Delphians ; 
immediately  after  their  departure,  Pericles,  with  another  army, 
came  and  restored  the  Phocians.  And  the  Lacedaemonians, 
having  engraven  the  record  of  their  privilege  of  consulting 
the  oracle  before  others,  which  the  Delphians  gave  them,  upon 
the  forehead  of  the  brazen  wolf  which  stands  there,  he,  also, 
having  received  from  the  Phocians  the  like  privilege  for  the 
Athenians,  had  it  cut  upon  the  same  wolf  of  brass  on  his 
right  side. 

\ That  he  did  well  and  wisely  in  thus  restraining  the  exertions 

^of  the  Athenians  within  the  compass  of  Greece,  the  events 
themselves  that  happened  afterward  bore  sufficient  Avitness. 
For,  in  the  first  place,  the  Euboeans  revolted,  against  whom 
he  passed  over  with  forces ; and  then,  immediately  after,  news 
came  that  the  Megarians  were  turned  their  enemies ; and  a 
hostile  army  was  upon  the  borders  of  Attica,  under  the  con- 
duct of  Plistoanax,  king  of  the  Lacedaemonians.  Wherefore 


PERICLES. 


Pericles  carre  with  his  army  back  again  in  all  haste  out  of 
Euboea,  to  meet  the  war  which  threatened  at  home  ; and  did 
not  venture  to  engage  a numerous  and  brave  army  eager  for 
battle  ; but  perceiving  that  Plistoanax  was  a very  young  man, 
and  governed  himself  mostly  by  the  counsel  and  advice  of 
Cleandrides,  whom  the  ephors  had  sent  with  him,  by  reason 
of  his  youth,  to  be  a kind  of  guardian  and  assistant  to  him,  he 
privately  made  trial  of  this  man’s  integrity,  and,  in  a short 
time,  having  corrupted  him  with  money,  prevailed  with  him  to 
withdraw  the  Peloponnesians  out  of  Attica.  When  the  army 
had  retired  and  dispersed  into  their  several  states,  the  Lace- 
daemonians in  anger  fined  their  king  in  so  large  a sum  of 
money,  that,  unable  to  pay  it,  he  quitted  Lacedaemon  ; while 
Cleandrides  fled,  and  had  sentence  of  death  passed  upon  him 
in  his  absence.  This  was  the  father  of  Gylippus,  who  over- 
powered the  Athenians  in  Sicily.  And  it  seems  that  this 
covetousness  was  an  hereditary  disease  transmitted  from  father 
to  son ; for  Gylippus  also  afterwards  was  caught  in  foul  prac- 
tices, and  expelled  from  Sparta  for  it.  But  this  we  have  told 
at  large  in  the  account  of  Lysander. 

When  Pericles,  in  giving  up  his  accounts  of  this  expe- 
dition, stated  a disbursement  of  ten  talents,  as  laid  out  upon 
fit  occasion,  the  people,  without  any  question,  nor  troubling 
themselves  to  investigate  the  mystery,  freely  allowed  of  it. 
And  some  historians,  in  which  number  is  Theophrastus  the 
philosopher,  have  given  it  as  a truth  that  Pericles  every  year 
used  to  send  privately  the  sum  of  ten  talents  to  Sparta,  with 
which  he  complimented  those  in  office,  to  keep  off  the  war ; 
not  to  purchase  peace  neither,  but  time,  that  he  might  prepare 
at  leisure,  and  be  the  better  able  to  carry  on  war  hereafter. 

Immediately  after  this,  turning  his  forces  against  the 
revolters,  and  passing  over  into  the  island  of  Euboea  with 
fifty  sail  of  ships  and  five  thousand  men  in  arms,  he  reduced 
their  cities,  and  drove  out  the  citizens  of  the  Chalcidians, 
called  Hippobotae,  horse-feeders,  the  chief  persons  for  wealth 
and  reputation  among  them  ; and  removing  all  the  Histiaans 
out  of  the  country,  brought  in  a plantation  of  Athenians  in 
their  room  ; making  them  his  one  example  of  severity,  because 
they  had  captured  an  Attic  ship  and  killed  all  on  board. 

After  this,  having  made  a truce  between  the  Athenians 
and  Lacedaemonians  for  thirty  years,  he  ordered,  by  public 
decree,  the  expedition  against  the  Isle  of  Samos,  on  the 
ground,  that,  when  they  were  bid  to  leave  off  their  war  with 
the  Milesians,  they  had  not  complied.  And  as  these  measures 


PERICLES. 


257 


against  the  Samians  are  thought  to  have  been  taken  to  pleas« 
Aspasia,  this  may  be  a fit  point  for  inquiry  about  the  woman, 
what  art  or  charming  faculty  she  had  that  enabled  her  to  cap- 
tivate, as  she  did,  the  greatest  statesmen,  and  to  give  the  phi- 
losophers occasion  to  speak  so  much  about  her,  and  that,  too, 
not  to  her  disparagement.  That  she  was  a Milesian  by  birth, 
the  daughter  of  Axiochus,  is  a thing  acknowledged.  And 
they  say  it  was  in  emulation  of  Thargelia,  a courtesan  of  the 
old  Ionian  times,  that  she  made  her  addresses  to  men  of  great 
power.  Thargelia  was  a great  beauty,  extremely  charming, 
and  at  the  same  time  sagacious  ; she  had  numerous  suitors 
among  the  Greeks,  and  brought  all  who  had  to  do  with  her 
over  to  the  Persian  interest,  and  by  their  means,  being  men 
of  the  greatest  power  and  station,  sowed  the  seeds  of  the  Median 
faction  up  and  down  in  several  cities.  Aspasia,  some  say,  was 
courted  and  caressed  by  Pericles  upon  account  of  her  knowl- 
edge and  skill  in  politics.  Socrates  himself  would  sometimes 
go  to  visit  her,  and  some  of  his  acquaintance  with  him  ; and 
those  who  frequented  her  company  would  carry  their  wives 
with  them  to  listen  to  her.  Her  occupation  was  any  thing 
but  creditable,  her  house  being  a home  for  young  courte 
sans,  ^schines  tells  us  also,  that  Lysicles,  a sheep-dealer, 
a man  of  low  birth  and  character,  by  keeping  Aspasia 
company  after  Pericles’s  death,  came  to  be  a chief  man  in 
Athens.  And  in  Plato’s  Menexenus,  though  we  do  not  take 
the  introduction  as  quite  serious,  still  thus  much  seems  to  be 
historical,  that  she  had  the  repute  of  being  resorted  to  by 
many  of  the  Athenians  for  instruction  in  the  art  of  speaking, 
Pericles’s  inclination  for  her  seems,  however,  to  have  rather 
proceeded  from  the  passion  of  love.  He  had  a wife  that  waa 
near  of  kin  to  him,  who  had  been  married  first  to  Hipponicus, 
by  whom  she  had  Callias,  surnamed  the  Rich  ; and  also  sh^ 
brought  Pericles,  while  she  lived  with  him,  two  sons,  Xanthip- 
pus  and  Paralus.  Afterwards,  when  they  did  not  well  agree, 
nor  like  to  live  together,  he  parted  with  her,  with  her  own 
consent,  to  another  man,  and  himself  took  Aspasia,  and  loved 
her  with  wonderful  affection  ; every  day,  both  as  he  went 
out  and  as  he  came  in  from  the  market-place,  he  saluted  and 
kissed  her. 

In  the  comedies  she  goes  by  the  nicknames  of  the  new 
Omphale  and  Deianira,  and  again  is  styled  Juno.  Cratinus, 
ia  downffght  terms,  calls  her  a harlot. 

To  find  him  a Juno  the  goddess  of  lust 

Pore  that  harlot  past  shame, 

Aspasia  by  name. 

17 


PERICLES. 


*S8 

It  should  seem  also  that  he  had  a son  by  her  ; Eupolis,  in 
his  Demi,  introduced  Pei  ides  asking  after  uis  safety,  and 
Myronides  replying. 

My  son  ? “ He  lives  ; a man  he  had  been  long, 

But  that  the  harlot-mother  did  him  wrong.*’ 

Aspasia,  they  say,  became  so  celebrated  and  renowned,  that 
Cyrus  also,  who  made  war  against  Artaxerxes  for  the  Persian 
monarchy,  gave  her  whom  he  loved  the  best  of  all  his  concu- 
bines the  name  of  Aspasia,  who  before  that  was  called 
Mil  to.  She  was  a Phociean  by  birth,  the  daughter  of  one 
Plermotimus,  and,  when  Cyrus  fell  in  battle,  was  carried  to 
the  king,  and  had  great  influence  at  court.  These  things 
coming  into  my  memory  as  I am  writing  this  story,  it  would 
be  unnatural  for  me  to  omit  them. 

Pericles,  however,  was  particularly  charged  with  having 
proposed  to  the  assembly  the  war  against  the  Samians,  from 
favor  to  the  Milesians,  upon  the  entreaty  of  Aspasia.  For 
the  two  states  were  at  war  for  the  possession  of  Priene  ; and 
the  Samians,  getting  the  better,  refused  to  lay  down  their 
arms  and  to  have  the  controversy  betwixt  them  decided  by 
arbitration  before  the  Athenians.  Pericles,  therefore,  fitting 
out  a fleet,  went  and  broke  up  the  oligarchical  government  at 
Samos,  and  taking  fifty  of  the  principal  men  of  the  town  as 
hostages,  and  as  many  of  their  children,  sent  them  to  the 
isle  of  Lemnos,  there  to  be  kept,  though  he  had  offers,  as 
some  relate,  of  a talent  apiece  for  himself  from  each  one  of 
the  hostages,  and  of  many  other  presents  from  those  who 
were  anxious  not  to  have  a democracy.  Moreover,  Pisuth- 
nes  the  Persian,  one  of  the  king’s  lieutenants,  bearing  some 
good-will  to  the  Samians,  sent  him  ten  thousand  pieces  of 
gold  to  excuse  the  city.  Pericles,  however,  would  receive 
none  of  all  this  ; but  after  he  had  taken  that  course  with  the 
Samians  which  he  thought  fit,  and  set  up  a democracy  among 
them,  sailed  back  to  Athens. 

But  they,  however,  immediately  revolted,  Pisuthnes  hav- 
ing privily  got  away  their  hostages  for  them,  and  provided 
them  with  means  for  the  war.  Whereupon  Pericles  came 
out  with  a fleet  a second  time  against  them,  and  found 
them  not  idle  nor  slinking  away,  but  manfully  resolved  to  try 
for  the  dominion  of  the  sea.  The  issue  was,  that  after  a 
sharp  sea-fight  about  the  island  called  Tragia,  Pericles  ob- 
tained a decisive  victory,  having  with  forty-four  ships  routed 
seventy  of  the  enemy’s,  twenty  of  which  were  carrying  sol- 
diers. 


PERICLES. 


2S9 


Together  with  his  victory  and  pursuit,  having  made  him- 
self master  of  the  port,  he  laid  siege  to  the  Samians,  and 
blocked  them  up,  who  yet,  one  way  or  another,  still  ventured 
to  make  sallies,  and  fight  under  the  city  walls.  But  after 
that  another  greater  fleet  from  Athens  was  arrived,  and  that  the 
Sam.ians  were  now  shut  up  with  a close  leaguer  on  every  side, 
Pericles,  taking  with  him  sixty  galleys,  sailed  out  into  the 
.main  sea,  with  the  intention,  as  most  authors  give  the  account, 
to  meet  a squadron  of  Phoenician  ships  that  were  coming  foi 
the  Samians’  relief,  and  to  fight  them  at  as  great  distance  as 
could  be  from  the  island  ; but  as  Stesimbrotus  says,  with  a 
design  of  putting  over  to  Cyprus ; which  does  not  seem  to  be 
probable.  But,  whichever  of  the  two  was  his  intention,  it 
seems  to  have  been  a miscalculation.  For  on  his  departure, 
Melissus,  the  son  of  Ithagenes,  a philosopher,  being  at  that 
time  the  general  in  Samos,  despising  either  the  small  number 
of  the  ships  that  were  left  or  the  inexperience  of  the  com- 
manders, prevailed  with  the  citizens  to  attack  the  Athenians. 
And  the  Samians  having  won  the  battle,  and  taken  several  of 
the  men  prisoners,  and  disabled  several  of  the  ships,  were 
masters  of  the  sea,  and  brought  into  port  all  necessaries  they 
wanted  for  the  war,  which  they  had  not  before.  Aristotle 
says  too,  that  Pericles  had  been  once  before  this  worsted  by 
this  Melissus  in  a sea-fight. 

The  Samians,  that  they  might  requite  an  affront  which  had 
before  been  put  upon  them,  branded  the  Athenians,  whom 
they  took  prisoners,  in  their  foreheads,  with  the  figure  of  an 
owl.  For  so  the  Athenians  had  marked  them  before  with  a 
Samaena,  which  is  a sort  of  ship,  low  and  flat  in  the  prow,  so 
as  to  look  snub-nosed,  but  wide  and  large  and  well-spread  in 
the  hold,  by  which  it  both  carries  a large  cargo  and  sails  well. 
And  it  was  so  called,  because  the  first  of  that  kind  was  seen 
at  Samos,  having  been  built  by  order  of  Polycrates  the  tyrant. 
These  brands  upon  the  Samians’  foreheads,  they  say,  are  the 
allusion  in  the  passage  of  Aristophanes,  where  he  says, — 

For,  oh,  the  Samians  are  a lettered  people. 

Pericles,  as  soon  as  news  was  brought  him  of  the  disaster 
that  had  befallen  his  army,  made  all  the  haste  he  could  to 
come  in  to  their  relief,  and  having  defeated  Melissus,  who 
bore  up  against  him,  and  put  the  enemy  to  flight,  he  immedi- 
ately proceeded  to  hem  them  in  with  a wall,  resolving  to 
master  them  and  take  the  town,  rather  with  some  cost  and 
time  than  with  the  wounds  and  hazards  of  his  citizens.  But 


26o 


PERICLES. 


as  it  was  a hard  matter  to  keep  back  the  Athenians,  who  were 
vexed  at  the  delay,  and  were  eagerly  bent  to  fight,  he  divided 
the  whole  multitude  into  eight  parts,  and  arranged  by  lot  that 
that  part  which  had  the  white  bean  should  have  leave  to  feast 
and  take  their  ease  while  the  other  seven  were  fighting.  And 
this  is  the  reason,  they  say,  that  people,  when  at  any  time 
they  have  been  merry,  and  enjoyed  themselves,  called  't 
Mhite  day,  in  allusion  to  this  white  bean. 

Ephorus  the  historian  tells  us  besides,  that  Pericles  made 
use  of  engines  of  battery  in  this  siege,  being  much  taken  with 
the  curiousness  of  the  invention,  with  the  aid  and  presence  of 
Artemon  himself,  the  engineer,  who,  being  lame,  used  to  be 
carried  about  in  a litter,  where  the  works  required  his  at- 
tendance, and  for  that  reason  was  called  Periphoretus.  But 
Heraclides  Ponticus  disproves  this  out  of  Anacreon’s  poems, 
where  mention  is  made  of  this  Artemon  Periphoretus  several 
ages  before  the  Samian  war,  or  any  of  these  occurrences. 
And  he  says  that  Artemon,  being  a man  who  loved  his  ease, 
and  had  a great  apprehension  of  danger,  for  the  most  part 
kept  close  within  doors,  having  two  of  his  servants  to  hold 
a brazen  shield  over  his  head,  that  nothing  might  fall  upon 
him  from  above  ; and  if  he  were  at  any  time  forced  upon 
necessity  to  go  abroad,  that  he  was  carried  about  in  a little 
hanging  bed,  close  to  the  very  ground,  and  that  for  this  rea- 
son he  was  called  Periphoretus. 

In  the  ninth  month,  the  Samians  surrendering  themselves 
and  delivering  up  the  town,  Pericles  pulled  down  their 
walls,  and  seized  their  shipping,  and  set  a fine  of  a large  sum 
of  money  upon  them,  part  of  which" they  paid  down  at  once, 
and  they  agreed  to  bring  in  the  rest  by  a certain  time,  and 
gave  hostages  for  security.  Duris  the  Samian,  makes  a trag- 
ical drama  out  of  these  events,  charging  the  Athenians  and 
Pericles  with  a great  deal  of  cruelty,  which  neither  Thucy- 
dides, nor  Ephorus,  nor  Aristotle  have  given  any  relation  of, 
and  probably  with  little  regard  to  truth  ; how,  for  example,  he 
brought  the  captains  and  soldiers  of  the  galleys  into  the 
market-place  at  Miletus,  and  there  having  bound  them  fast  to 
boards  for  ten  days,  then,  when  they  were  already  all  but  half 
dead,  gave  order  to  have  them  killed  by  beating  out  their 
brains  with  clubs,  and  their  dead  bodies  to  be  flung  out  into 
the  open  streets  and  fields,  unburied.  Duris,  however,  who 
even  where  he  has  no  private  feeling  concerned,  is  not  wont 
to  keep  his  narrative  within  the  limits  of  truth,  is  the  more 
likely  upon  this  occasion  to  have  exaggerated  the  calamities 


PERICLES. 


261 


which  befell  his  country,  to  create  odium  against  the  Athenians. 
Pericles,  however,  after  the  reduction  of  Samos,  returning 
back  to  Athens,  took  care  that  those  who  died  in  the  war 
should  be  honorably  buried,  and  made  a funeral  harangue, 
as  the  custom  is,  in  their  commendation  at  their  graves,  for 
which  he  gained  great  admiration.  As  he  came  down  from 
the  stage  on  which  he  spoke,  the  rest  of  the  women  came 
and  complimented  him,  taking  him  by  the  hand,  and  crown- 
ing him  with  garlands  and  ribbons,  like  a victorious  athlete 
in  the  games ; but  Elpinice,  coming  near  to  him,  said, 
“ These  are  brave  deeds,  Pericles,  that  you  have  done,  and 
such  as  deserve  our  chaplets ; who  have  lost  us  many  a 
worthy  citizen,  not  in  a war  with  Phoenicians  or  Medes,  like 
my  brother  Cimon,  but  for  the  overthrow  of  an  allied  and 
kindred  city.’’  As  Elpinice  spoke  these  words,  he,  smiling 
quietly,  as  it  is  said,  returned  her  answer  with  this  verse, — 

Old  women  should  not  seek  to  be  perfumed. 

Ion  says  of  him,  that  upon  this  exploit  of  his,  conquering  the 
Samians,  he  indulged  very  high  and  proud  thoughts  of  him- 
self : whereas  Agamemnon  was  ten  years  a taking  a barbarous 
city,  he  had  in  nine  months’  time  vanquished  and  taken  the 
greatest  and  most  powerful  of  the  lonians.  And  indeed  it 
was  not  without  reason  that  he  assumed  this  glory  to  himself, 
for,  in  real  truth,  there  was  much  uncertainty  and  great  hazard 
in  this  great  war,  if  so  be,  as  Thucydides  tells  us,  the  Samian 
state  were  within  a very  little  of  wresting  the  whole  power 
and  dominion  of  the  sea  out  of  the  Athenians’  hands. 

After  this  was  over,  the  Peloponnesian  war  beginning  to 
break  out  in  full  tide,  he  advised  the  people  to  send  help  to 
the  Corcyraeans,  who  were  attacked  by  the  Corinthians,  and 
to  secure  to  themselves  an  island  possessed  of  great  naval 
resources,  since  the  Peloponnesians  were  already  all  but  in 
actual  hostilities  against  them.  * The  people  readily  consent- 
ing to  the  motion,  and  voting  an  aid  and  succor  for  them,  he 
despatched  - Lacedaemonius,  Cimon’s  son,  having  only  ten 
ships  with  him,  as  it  were  out  of  a design  to  affront  him  ; for 
there  was  a great  kindness  and  friendship  betwixt  Cimon’s 
family  and  the  Lacedaemonians  ; so,  in  order  that  Lacedaemo- 
nius might  lie  the  more  open  to  a charge,  or  suspicion  at 
least,  of  favoring  the  Lacedaemonians  and  playing  false,  if  'he 
performed  no  considerable  exploit  in  this  service,  he  allowed 
him  a small  number  of  ships,  and  sent  him  out  against  his 
will ; and  indeed  he  made  it  somewhat  his  business  to  hindei 


262 


PERICLES. 


Cimoii’s  sons  from  rising  in  the  state,  professing  that  by  their 
very  names  they  were  not  to  be  looked  upon  as  native  and 
true  Athenians,  but  foreigners  and  strangers,  one  being  called 
Lacedaemonius,  another  Thessalus,  and  the  third  Eleus  ; and 
they  were  all  three  of  them,  it  was  thought,  born  of  an  Arca- 
dian woman.  Being,  however,  ill  spoken  of  on  account  oi 
these  ten  galleys,  as  having  afforded  but  a small  supply  to 
the  people  that  were  in  need,  and  yet  given  a great  advantage 
to  those  who  might  complain  of  the  act  of  intervention.  Peri* 
cles  sent  out  a larger  force  afterwards  to  Corcyra,  which  ar- 
rived after  the  fight  was  over.  And  when  now  the  Corinth- 
ians, angry  and  indignant  with  the  Athenians,  accused  them 
publicly  at  Lacedaemon,  the  Megarians  joined  with  them, 
complaining  that  they  were,  contrary  to  common  right  and 
the  articles  of  peace  sworn  to  among  the  Greeks,  kept  out 
and  driven  away  from  every  market  and  from  all  ports  under 
the  control  of  the  Athenians.  The  ^ginetans,  also,  profess- 
ing to  be  ill-used  and  treated  with  violence,  made  supplica- 
tions in  private  to  the  Lacedaemonians  for  redress,  though 
not  daring  openly  to  call  the  Athenians  in  question.  In  the 
mean  time,  also,  the  city  Potidaea,  under  the  dominion  of  the 
Athenians,  but  a colony  formerly  of  the  Corinthians,  had  re- 
volted, and  was  beset  with  a formal  siege,  and  was  a further 
occasion  of  precipitating  the  war. 

Yet  notwithstanding  all  this,  there  being  embassies  sent 
to  Athens,  and  Archidamus,  the  king  of  the  Lacedaemonians, 
endeavoring  to  bring  the  greater  part  of  the  complaints  and 
matters  in  dispute  to  a fair  determination,  and  to  pacify  and 
allay  the  heats  of  the  allies,  it  is  very  likely  that  the  war 
would  not  upon  any  other  grounds  of  quarrel  have  fallen  upon 
the  Athenians,  could  they  have  been  prevailed  with  to  repeal 
the  ordinance  against  the  Megarians,  and  to  be  reconciled  to 
them.  Upon  which  account,  since  Pericles  was  the  man  who 
mainly  opposed  it,  and  stirred  up  the  people’s  passions  to 
persist  in  their  contention  with  the  Megarians,  he  was  le- 
garded  as  the  sole  cause  of  the  war. 

They  say,  moreover,  that  ambassadors  went,  by  order,  from 
Lacedaemon  to  Athens  about  this  very  business,  and  that 
when  Pericles  was  urging  a certain  law  which  made  it  illegal 
to  take  down  or  withdraw  the  tablet  of  the  decree,  one  of  the 
ambassadors,  Polyalces  by  name,  said,  ‘‘  Well,  do  not  take  it 
down  then,  but  turn  it ; there  is  no  law,  I suppose,  which  for- 
bids that ; ” which,  though  prettily  said,  did  not  move  Pericles 
from  his  resolution.  There  may  have  been,  in  all  likelihood, 


PERICLES. 


263 


something  of  a secret  grudge  and  private  animosity  which  he 
had  against  the  Megarians.  Yet,  upon  a public  and  open 
charge  against  them,  that  they  had  appropriated  part  of  the 
sacred  land  on  the  frontier,  he  proposed  a decree  that  a her- 
ald should  be  sent  to  them,  and  the  same  also  to  the  Lacedae- 
monians, with  an  accusation  of  the  Megarians  ; an  order 
which  certainly  shows  equitable  and  friendly  proceeding 
enough.  And  after  that  the  herald  who  was  sent,  by  name  An- 
themocritus,  died,  and  it  was  believed  that  the  Megarians  had 
contrived  his  death,  then  Charinus  proposed  a decree  against 
them,  that  there  should  be  an  irreconcilable  and  implacable 
enmity  thenceforward  betwixt  the  two  commonwealths;  and 
that  if  any  one  of  the  Megarians  should  but  set  his  foot  in 
Attica,  he  should  be  put  to  death ; and  that  the  commanders, 
when  they  take  the  usual  oath,  should,  over  and  above  that, 
swear  that  they  will  twice  every  year  make  an  inroad  into  the 
Megarian  country ; and  that  Anthemocritus  should  be  buried 
near  the  Thriasian  Gates,  which  are  now  called  the  Dipylon, 
or  Double  Gate. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Megarians,  utterly  denying  and 
disowning  the  murder  of  Anthemocritus,  throw  the  whole 
matter  upon  Aspasia  and  Pericles,  availing  themselves  of  the 
famous  verses  in  the  Acharnians, 

To  Megara  some  of  our  madcaps  ran, 

And  stole  Simaetha  thence,  their  courtesan. 

Which  exploit  the  Megarians  to  outdo. 

Came  to  Aspasia's  house,  and  took  off  two. 

The  true  occasion  of  the  quarrel  is  not  so  easy  to  find 
out.  But  of  inducing  the  refusal  to  annul  the  decree,  all  alike 
charge  Pericles.  Some  say  he  met  the  request  with  a posi- 
tive refusal,  out  of  high  spirit  and  a view  of  the  state’s  best 
interest,  accounting  that  the  demand  made  in  those  embassies 
was  designed  for  a trial  of  their  compliance,  and  that  a con- 
cession would  be  taken  for  a confession  of  weakness  as  if  they 
durst  not  do  otherwise ; while  other  some  there  are  who  say 
that  it  was  rather  out  of  arrogance  and  a wilful  spirit  of  con- 
tendon,  to  show  his  own  strength,  that  he  took  occasion  to 
slight  the  ] lacedaemonians.  The  worst  motive  of  all,  which 
is  confirmed  by  most  witnesses,  is  to  the  following  effect. 
Phidias  the  Moulder  had,  as  has  before  been  said,  under- 
taken to  make  the  statue  of  Minerva.  Now  he,  being  ad- 
mitted to  friendship  with  Pericles,  and  a great  favorite  of  hiS| 
had  many  enemies  upon  this  account,  who  envied  and  iiia' 


264 


PERICLES. 


ligned  him  ; who  also,  to  make  trial  in  a case  of  his,  what 
kind  of  judges  the  commons  would  prove,  should  there  be  oc- 
casion to  bring  Pericles  himself  before  them,  having  tampered 
with  Menon,  one  who  had  been  a workman  with  Phidias,  sta- 
tioned him  in  the  market-place,  with  a petition  desiring  public 
security  upon  his  discovery  and  impeachment  of  Phidias. 
The  people  admitting  the  man  to  tell  his  story,  and  the  pros- 
ecution proceeding  in  the  assembly,  there  was  nothing  of 
theft  or  cheat  proved  against  him  ; for  Phidias,  from  the  very 
first  beginning,  by  the  advice  of  Pericles,  had  so  wrought  and 
wrapt  the  gold  that  was  used  in  the  work  about  the  statue, 
that  they  might  take  it  all  off,  and  make  out  the  just  weight 
of  it,  which  Pericles  at  that  time  bade  the  accusers  do.  But 
the  reputation  of  his  works  was  what  brought  envy  upon 
Phidias,  especially  that  where  he  represents  the  fight  of  the 
Amazons  upon  the  goddesses'  shield,  he  had  introduced  a 
likeness  of  himself  as  a bald  old  man  holding  up  a great 
stone  with  both  hands,  and  had  put  in  a very  fine  representa- 
tion of  Pericles  fighting  with  an  Amazon.  And  the  position 
of  the  hand  which  holds  out  the  spear  in  front  of  the  face, 
was  ingeniously  contrived  to  conceal  in  some  degree  the  like- 
ness, which  meantime,  showed  itself  on  either  side. 

Phidias  then  was  carried  away  to  prison,  and  tliere  died 
of  a disease  ; but,  as  some  say,  of  poison,  administered  by. the 
enemies  of  Pericles,  to  raise  a slander,  or  a suspicion  at  least, 
as  though  he  had  procured  it.  The  informer  Menon,  upon 
Glycon's  proposal,  the  people  made  free  from  payment  of 
taxes  and  customs,  and  ordered  the  generals  to  take  care  that 
nobody  should  do  him  any  hurt.  About  the  same  time,  As- 
pasia  was  indicted  of  impiety,  upon  the  complaint  of  Hermip- 
pus  the  comedian,  who  also  laid  further  to  her  charge  that 
she  received  into  her  house  freeborn  women  for  the  uses  of 
Pericles.  And  Diopithes  proposed  a decree,  that  public  ac- 
cusations should  be  laid  against  persons  who  neglected  reli- 
gion, or  taught  new  doctrines  about  things  above,  directing 
suspncion,  by  means  of  Anaxagoras,  against  Pericles  himself. 
The  people  receiving  and  admitting  these  accusations  and 
complaints,  at  length,  by  this  means,  they  came  to  enact  a 
decree,  at  the  motion  of  Dracontides,  that  Pericles  should 
bring  in  the  accounts  of  the  moneys  he  had  expended,  and 
lodge  them  with  the  Prytanes  ; and  that  the  judges,  carrying 
their  suffrage  from  the  altar  in  the  Acropolis,  should  examine 
and  determine  the  business  in  the  city.  This  last  clause 
Hagnon  took  out  of  tlie  decree,  and  moved  that  the  causes 


PERICLES. 


265 


should  be  tried  before  fifteen  hundred  jurors,  whether  they 
should  be  styled  prosecutions  for  robbery,  or  bribery,  or  any 
kind  of  malversation.  Aspasia,  Pericles  begged  off,  shedding, 
as  ^schines  says,  many  tears  at  the  trial,  and  personally  en- 
treating the  jurors.  But  fearing  how  it  might  go  with  Anaxag* 
oras,  he  sent  him  out  of  the  city.  And  finding  that  in  Phid- 
ias’s case  he  had  miscarried  with  the  people,  being  afraid  of 
impeachment,  he  kindled  the  war,  which  hitherto  had  lingered 
and  smothered,  and  blew  it  up  into  a flame ; hoping,  by  that 
means,  to  disperse  and  scatter  these  complaints  and  charges, 
and  to  allay  their  jealousy  ; the  city  usually  throwing  herself 
upon  him  alone,  and  trusting  to  his  sole  conduct,  upon  the 
urgency  of  great  affairs  and  public  dangers,  by  reason  of  his 
authority  and  the  sway  he  bore. 

These  are  given  out  to  have  been  the  reasons  which  in 
duced  Pericles  not  to  suffer  the  people  of  Athens  to  yield  to 
the  proposals  of  the  Lacedaemonians ; but  their  truth  is  un- 
certain. 

The  Lacedaemonians,  for  their  part,  feeling  sure  that  if 
they  could  once  remove  him,  they  might  be  at  what  terms 
they  pleased  with  the  Athenians,  sent  them  word  that  they 
should  expel  the  “ Pollution  ” with  which  Pericles  on  the 
mother’s  side  was  tainted,  as  Thucydides  tells  us.  But  the 
issue  proved  quite  contrary  to  what  those  who  sent  the  mes- 
sage expected ; instead  of  bringing  Pericles  under  suspicion 
and  reproach,  they  raised  him  into  yet  greater  credit  and  es- 
teem with  the  citizens,  as  a man  whom  their  enemies  most 
hated  and  feared.  In  the  same  way,  also,  before  Archidamus, 
who  was  at  the  head  of  the  Peloponnesians,  made  his  inva- 
sion into  Attica,  he  told  the  Athenians  beforehand,  that  if 
Archidamus,  while  he  laid  waste  the  rest  of  the  country, 
should  forbear  and  spare  his  estate,  either  on  the  ground  of 
friendship  or  right  of  hospitality  that  was  betwixt  them,  or  on 
purpose  to  give  his  enemies  an  occasion  of  traducing  him  ; 
that  men  he  did  freely  bestow  upon  the  state  all  that  his  land 
and  the  buildings  upon  it  for  the  public  use.  The  Lacedae- 
monians, therefore,  and  their  allies,  with  a great  army,  in- 
vaded the  Athenian  territories,  under  the  conduct  of  king 
Archidamus,  and  laying  waste  the  country,  marched  on  as 
far  as  Acharnae,  and  there  pitched  their  camp,  presuming 
that  the  Athenians  would  never  endure  that,  but  would  come 
out  and  fight  them  for  their  country’s  and  their  honor’s 
sake.  But  Pericles  looked  upon  it  as  dangerous  to  engage  in 
battle,  to  the  risk  of  the  city  itself,  against  sixty  thousand 


266 


PERICLES. 


men-at-arms  of  Peloponnesians  and  Boeotians  ; for  so  many 
they  were  in  number  that  made  the  inroad  at  first ; and  he 
endeavored  to  appease  those  who  were  desirous  to  fight,  and 
were  grieved  and  discontented  to  see  how  things  went,  and 
gave  them  good  words,  saying,  that  ‘‘  trees,  when  they  are 
lopped  and  cut,  grow  up  again  in  a short  time,  but  men,  being 
once  lost,  cannot  easily  be  recovered.’^  He  did  not  convene 
the  people  into  an  assembly,  for  fear  lest  they  should  foice 
him  to  act  against  his  judgment ; but,  like  a skilful  steersman 
or  pilot  of  a ship,  who,  when  a sudden  squall  comes  on,  out 
at  sea,  makes  all  his  arrangements,  sees  that  all  is  tight  and 
fast,  and  then  follows  the  dictates  of  his  skill,  and  minds  the 
business  of  the  ship,  taking  no  notice  of  the  tears  and  en- 
treaties of  the  sea-sick  and  fearful  passengers,  so  he,  having 
shut  up  the  city  gates,  and  placed  guards  at  all  posts  for  se- 
curity, followed  his  own  reason  and  judgment,  little  regarding 
those  that  cried  out  against  him  and  were  angry  at  his  man- 
agement, although  there  were  a great  many  of  his  friends  that 
urged  him  with  requests,  and  many  of  his  enemies  threatened 
and  accused  him  for  doing  as  he  did,  and  many  made  songs 
and  lampoons  upon  him,  which  were  sung  about  the  town  to 
his  disgrace,  reproaching  him  with  the  cowardly  exercise  of 
his  office  of  general,  and  the  tame  abandonment  of  every 
thing  to  the  enemy’s  hands. 

Cleon,  also,  already  was  among  his  assailants,  making  use 
of  the  feeling  against  him  as  a step  to  the  leadership  of  the 
people,  as  appears  in  the  anapaestic  verses  of  Hermippus, 

Satyr-king,  instead  of  swords, 

Will  you  always  handle  words  \* 

Very  brave  indeed  we  find  them, 

But  a Teles  lurks  behind  them. 

Yet  to  gnash  your  teeth  you’re  seen. 

When  the  little  dagger  keen, 

Whetted  every  day  anew. 

Of  sharp  Cleon  touches  you. 

Pericles,  however,  was  not  at  all  moved  by  any  attacks^ 
but  took  all  patiently,  and  submitted  in  silence  to  the  disgrace 
they  threw  upon  him  and  the  ill-will  they  bore  him ; and, 
sending  out  a fleet  of  a hundred  galleys  to  Peloponnesus,  he 
did  not  go  along  with  it  in  person,  but  stayed  behind,  that  he 
might  watch  at  home  and  keep  the  city  under  his  own  control, 
till  the  Peloponnesians  broke  up  their  camp  and  were  gone. 
Yet  to  soothe  the  common  people,  jaded  and  distressed  with 
the  war,  he  relieved  them  with  distributions  of  public  moneys. 


PERICLES. 


267 


and  ordained  new  divisions  of  subject  land.  For  having 
turned  out  all  the  people  of  ^gina,  he  parted  the  island 
among  the  Athenians,  according  to  lot.  Some  comfort,  also, 
and  ease  in  their  miseries,  they  might  receive  from  what  their 
enemies  endured.  For  the  fleet,  sailing  round  the  Pelcpon- 
nese,  ravaged  a great  deal  of  the  country,  and  pillaged  and 
plundered  the  towns  and  smaller  cities  ; and  by  land  he  him^ 
self  entered  with  an  army  the  Megarian  country,  and  made 
havoc  of  it  all.  Whence  it  is  clear  that  the  Peloponnesians, 
though  they  did  the  Athenians  much  mischief  by  land,  yet 
suffering  as  much  themselves  from  them  by  sea,  would  net 
have  protracted  the  war  to  such  a length,  but  would  quickly 
have  given  it  over,  as  Pericles  at  first  foretold  they  would, 
had  not  some  divine  power  crossed  human  purposes. 

In  the  first  place,  the  pestilential  disease,  or  plague,  seized 
upon  the  city,  and  ate  up  all  the  flower  and  prime  of  their 
youth  and  strength.  Upon  occasion  of  which,  the  people, 
distempered  and  afflicted  in  their  souls,  as  well  as  in  their 
bodies,  were  utterly  enraged  like  madmen  against  Pericles, 
and,  like  patients  grown  delirious,  sought  to  lay  violent  hands 
on  their  physician,  or,  as  it  were,  their  father.  They  had  been 
possessed,  by  his  enemies,  with  the  belief  that  the  occasion 
of  the  plague  was  the  crowding  of  the  country  people  together 
into  the  town,  forced  as  they  were  now,  in  the  heat  of  the 
summer- weather,  to  dwell  many  of  them  together  even  as  they 
could,  in  small  tenements  and  stifling  hovels,  and  to  be  tied 
to  a lazy  course  of  life  within  doors,  whereas  before  they  lived 
in  a pure,  open,  and  free  air.  The  cause  and  author  of  all 
this,  said  they,  is  he  who  on  account  of  the  war  has  poured  a 
multitude  of  people  from  the  country  in  upon  us  within  the 
walls,  and  uses  all  these  many  men  that  he  has  here  upon  no 
employ  or  service,  but  keeps  them  pent  up  like  cattle,  to  be 
overrun  with  infection  from  one  another,  affording  them 
iieitli  er  shift  of  quarters  nOi  any  refreshment. 

With  the  design  to  remedy  these  evils,  and  do  the  enemy 
some  incon  venience,  Pericles  got  a hundred  and  fifty  galleys 
ready,  and  having  embarked  many  tried  soldiers,  both  foot 
and  horse,  was  about  to  sail  out,  giving  great  hope  to  his  citi- 
zens, and  no  less  alarm  to  his  enemies,  upon  the  sight  of  so 
great  a force.  And  now  the  vessels  having  their  complement 
of  men,  and  Pericles  being  gone  aboard  his  own  galley,  it 
happened  that  the  sun  was  eclipsed,  and  it  grew  dark  on  a 
sudden,  to  the  affright  of  all,  for  this  was  looked  upon  as  ex^ 
tremely  ominous.  Pericles,  therefore,  perceiving  the  steers 


268 


PERICLES. 


man  seized  with  fear  and  at  a loss  what  to  do,  took  his  cloak 
and  held  it  up  before  the  man’s  face,  and,  screening  him  with 
it  so  that  he  could  not  see,  asked  him  whether  he  imagined 
there  was  any  great  hurt,  or  the  sign  of  any  great  hurt  in  this, 
and  he  answering  No,  ‘‘Why,”  said  he,  “and  what  does  that 
differ  from  this,  only  that  what  has  caused  that  darkness  there, 
is  something  greater  than  a cloak  ? ” This  is  a story  which 
philosophers  tell  their  scholars.  Pericles,  however,  after  put- 
ting out  to  sea,  seems  not  to  have  done  any  other  exploit  be- 
fitting such  preparations,  and  when  he  had  laid  siege  to  the 
holy  city  Epidaurus,  which  gave  him  some  hope  of  surrender, 
miscarried  in  his  design  by  reason  of  the  sickness.  For  it  not 
only  seized  upon  the  Athenians,  but  upon  all  others,  too,  that 
held  any  sort  of  communication  with  the  army.  Finding  after 
this  the  Athenians  ill  affected  and  highly  displeased  with  him, 
he  tried  and  endeavored  what  he  could  to  appease  and  re- 
encourage them.  But  he  could  not  pacify  or  allay  their  anger, 
nor  persuade  or  prevail  with  them  any  way,  till  they  freely 
passed  their  votes  upon  him,  resumed  their  power,  took  away 
his  command  from  him,  and  fined  him  in  a sum  of  money; 
which,  by  their  account  that  say  least,  was  fifteen  talents, 
while  they  who  reckon  most,  name  fifty.  The  name  prefixed 
to  the  accusation  was  Cleon,  as  Idomeneus  tells  us  ; Sim- 
mias,  according  to  Theophrastus  ; and  Heraclides  Ponticus 
gives  it  as  Lacratidas. 

After  this,  public  troubles  were  soon  to  leave  him  unmo- 
lested ; the  people,  so  to  say,  discharged  their  passion  in  their 
stroke,  and  lost  their  stings  in  the  wound.  But  his  domestic 
concerns  were  in  an  unhappy  condition,  many  of  his  friends 
and  acquaintance  having  died  in  the  plague  time,  and  those 
of  his  family  having  long  since  been  in  disorder  and  in  a kind 
of  mutiny  against  him.  For  the  eldest  his  lawfully  begot- 
ten sons,  Xanthippus  by  name,  being  naturally  prodigal,  and 
marrying  a young  and  expensive  wife,  the  daughtherof  Tisan- 
der,  son  of  Epilycus,  was  highly  offended  at  his  father’s  econ- 
^ omy  in  making  him  but  a scanty  allowance,  by  little  and  little 
at  a time.  He  sent,  therefore,  to  a friend  one  day,  and  bor- 
rowed some  money  of  him  in  his  father  Pericles’s  name,  pre- 
tending it  was  by  his  order.  The  man  coming  afterward  to 
demand  the  debt,  Pericles  was  so  far  from  yielding  to  pay  it, 
that  he  entered  an  action  against  him.  Updn  which  the  3^oung 
man,  Xanthippus,  thought  himself  so  ill  used  and  disobliged, 
that  he  openly  reviled  his  father  ; telling  first,  by  way  of  ridi- 
cule, stories  about  his  conversations  at  home,  and  the  dis- 


PERICLES. 


2'69 

courses  he  had  with  the  sophists  and  scholars  that  came  to 
his  house.  As  for  instance,  how  one  who  was  a practiser  of 
the  five  games  of  skill,  having  with  a dart  or  javelin  unawares 
against  his  will  struck  and  killed  Epitimus  the  Pharsalian,  his 
father  spent  a whole  day  with  Protagoras  in  a serious  dispute, 
whether  the  javelin,  or  the  man  that  threw  it,  or  the  masters 
of  the  games  who  appointed  these  sports,  were,  according  to 
the  strictest  and  best  reason,  to  be  accounted  the  cause  of  this 
mischance.  Besides  this,  Stesimbrotus  tells  us  that  it  was 
Xanthippus  who  spread  abroad  among  the  people  the  infa- 
mous story  concerning  his  own  wife  ; and  in  general  that  this 
difference  of  the  young  man’s  with  his  father,  and  the  breach 
betwixt  them,  continued  never  to  be  healed  or  made  up  till 
his  death.  For  Xanthippus  died  in  the  plague  time  of  the 
sickness.  At  which  time  Pericles  also  lost  his  sister,  and  the 
greatest  part  of  his  relations  and  friends,  and  those  who  had 
been  most  useful  and  serviceable  to  him  in  managing  the 
affairs  of  state.  However,  he  did  not  shrink  or  give  in  upon 
these  occasions,  nor  betray  or  lower  his  high  spirit  and  the 
greatness  of  his  mind  under  all  his  misfortunes  ; he  was  not 
even  so  much  as  seen  to  weep  or  to  mourn,  or  even  attend 
the  burial  of  any  of  his  friends  or  relations,  till  at  last  he  lost 
his  only  remaining  legitimate  son.  Subdued  by  this  blow, 
and  yet  striving  still,  as  far  as  he  could,  to  maintain  his  prin- 
ciple, and  to  preserve  and  keep  up  the  greatness  of  his  soul, 
when  he  came,  however,  to  perform  the  ceremony  of  putting 
a garland  of  flowers  upon  the  head  of  the  corpse,  he  was  van- 
quished by  his  passion  at  the  sight,  so  that  he  burst  into  ex- 
clamations, and  shed  v:opious  tears,  having  never  done  any 
such  thing  in  all  his  life  before. 

The  city  having  made  trial  of  other  generals  for  the  con- 
duct of  war,  and  orators  for  business  of  state,  when  they  found 
there  was  no  one  who  was  of  weight  enough  for  such  a charge, 
or  of  authority  sufficient  to  be  trusted  with  so  great  a com- 
mand,'regretted  the  loss  of  him,  and  invited  him  again  to  ad- 
dress and  advise  them,  and  to  reassume  the  office  of  general. 
He,  however,  lay  at  home  in  dejection  and  mourning  ; but 
was  persuaded  by  Alcibiades  and  others  of  his  friends  to  come 
abroad  and  show  himself  to  the  people ; who  having,  upon  his 
appearance,  made  their  acknowledgments,  and  apologized 
for  their  untowardly  treatment  of  him,  he  undertook  the  pub- 
'ic  affairs  once  more  ; and,  being  chosen  general,  requested 
that  the  statute  concerning  base-born  children,  which  he  him- 
self had  formerly  caused  to  be  made,  might  be  suspended  ; 


270 


PERICLES. 


fhat  so  the  name  and  race  of  his  family  might  not,  for  abso- 
lute want  of  a lawful  heir  to  succeed,  be  wholly  lost  and  ex- 
tinguished. The  case  of  the  statute  was  thus  : Pericles,  when 
long  ago  at  the  height  of  his  power  in  the  state,  having  then, 
as  has  been  said,  children  lawfully  begotten,  proposed  a law 
that  those  only  should  be  reputed  true  citizens  of  Athens  who 
were  born  of  such  parents  as  were  both  Athenians.  After 
this,  the  king  of  Egypt  having  sent  to  the  people,  by  way  of 
present,  forty  thousand  bushels  of  wheat,  which  were  to  be 
shared  out  among  the  citizens,  a great  many  actions  and  suits 
about  legitimacy  occurred,  by  virtue  of  that  edict ; cases 
which,  till  that  time,  had  not  been  known  nor  taken  notice 
of  ; and  several  persons  suffered  by  false  accusations.  There 
were  little  less  than  five  thousand  who  were  convicted  and 
sold  for  slaves  ; those  who,  enduring  the  test,  remained  in 
the  government  and  passed  muster  for  true  Athenians  were 
found  upon  the  poll  to  be  fourteen  thousand  and  forty  per- 
sons in  number. 

It  looked  strange,  that  a law,  which  had  been  carried  so 
far  against  so  many  people,  should  be  cancelled  again  by  the 
same  man  that  made  it ; yet  the  present  calamity  and  dis- 
tress which  Pericles  labored  under  in  his  family  broke  through 
all  objections,  and  prevailed  with  the  Athenians  to  pity  him, 
as  one  whose  losses  and  misfortunes  had  sufficiently  punished 
his  former  arrogance  and  haughtiness.  His  sufferings  de- 
served, they  thought,  their  pity,  and  even  indignation,  and 
his  request  was  such  as  became  a man  to  ask  and  men  to 
grant;  they  gave  him  permission  to  enroll  his  son  in  the 
register  of  his  fraternity,  giving  him  his  own  name.  Th’s 
son  afterward,  after  having  defeated  the  Peloponnesians  at 
Arginusae,  was,  with  his  fellow-generals,  put  to  death  by  the 
people. 

About  the  time  when  his  son  was  enrolled,  it  should  seem, 
the  plague  seized  Pericles,  not  with  sharp  and  violent  fits,  as 
it  did  others  that  had  but  with  a dull  and  lingering  dis- 
temper, attended  with  various  changes  and  alterations, 
leisurely,  by  little  and  little,  wasting  the  strength  of  his  body, 
and  undermining  the  noble  faculties  of  his  soul.  So  that 
Theophrastus,  in  his  Morals,  when  discussing  whether  men’s 
characters  change  with  their  circumstances,  and  their  moral 
habits,  disturbed  by  the  ailings  of  their  bodies,  start  aside 
from  the  rules  of  virtue,  has  left  it  upon  record,  that  Pericles, 
when  he  was  sick,  showed  one  of  his  friends  that  came  to 
visit  him,  an  amulet  or  charm  that  the  women  had  hung  about 


PERICLES.  271 

his  neck ; as  much  as  to  say,  that  he  was  very  sick  indeed 
when  he  would  admit  of  such  a foolery  as  that  was. 

When  he  was  now  near  his  end,  the  best  of  the  citizens 
and  those  of  his  friends  who  were  left  alive,  sitting  about  him, 
were  speaking  of  the  greatness  of  his  merit,  and  his  power, 
and  reckoning  up  his  famous  actions  and  the  number  of  his 
victories  ; for  there  were  no  less  than  nine  trophies,  which,  as 
their  chief  commander  and  conqueror  of  their  enemies,  he 
had  set  up.  for  the  honor  of  the  city.  They  talked  thus 
gether  among  themselves,  as  though  he  were  unable  to  under 
stand  or  mind  what  they  said,  but  had  now  lost  his  conscious* 
ness.  He  had  listened,  however,  all  the  while,  and  attended 
to  all,  and,  speaking  out  among  them,  said  that  he  wondered 
they  should  commend  and  take  notice  of  things  which  were 
as  much  owing  to  fortune  as  to  any  thing  else,  and  had  hap- 
pened to  many  other  commanders,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
should  not  speak  or  make  mention  of  that  which  was  the 
most  excellent  and  greatest  thing  of  all.  “ For,”  said  he, 
*‘no  Athenian,  through  my  means,  ever  wore  mourning.” 

He  was  indeed  a character  deserving  our  high  admiration, 
not  only  for  his  equitable  and  mild  temper,  which  all  along 
in  the  many  affairs  of  his  life,  and  the  great  animosities  which 
he  incurred,  he  constantly  maintained ; but  also  for  the  high 
spirit  and  feeling  which  made  him  regard  it  the  noblest  of 
all  his  honors  that,  in  the  exercise  of  such  immense  power, 
he  never  had  gratified  his  envy  or  his  passion,  nor  ever  had 
treated  any  enemy  as  irreconcilably  opposed  to  him.  And  to 
me  it  appears  that  this  one  thing  gives  that  otherwise  childish 
and  arrogant  title  a fitting  and  becoming  significance ; so 
dispassionate  a temper,  a life  so  pure  and  unblemished,  in  the 
height  of  power  and  place,  might  well  be  called  Olympian,  in 
accordance  with  our  conceptions  of  the  divine  beings,  to  whom, 
as  the  natural  authors  of  all  good  and  of  nothing  evil, we  ascribe 
the  rule  and  government  of  the  world.  Not  as  the  poets  rep- 
resent, who,  while  confounding  us  with  their  ignorant  fancies, 
are  themselves  confuted  by  their  own  poems  and  fictions,  and 
call  the  place,  indeed,  where  they  say  the  gods  make  their 
abode,  a secure  and  quiet  seat,  free  from  all  hazards  and 
commotions,  untroubled  with  winds  or  with  clouds,  and 
cx^ually  through  all  time  illumined  with  a soft  serenity  and  a 
pure  light  as  though  such  were  a home  most  agreeable  for  a 
Idessed  and  immortal  nature  ; and  yet,  in  the  meanwhile, 
affirm  that  the  gods  themselves  are  full  of  trouble  and  enmity 
ani  anger  and  other  passions,  which  no  way  become  or  be- 


272 


FABIUS. 


long  to  even  men  that  have  any  understanding.  But  this  will 
perhaps,  seem  a subject  fitter  for  some  other  consideration, 
and  that  ought  to  be  treated  of  in  some  other  place. 

The  course  of  public  affairs  after  his  death  produced  a 
quick  and  speedy  sense  of  the  loss  of  Pericles.  Those  who, 
while  he  lived,  resented  his  great  authority,  as  that  which 
eclipsed  themselves,  presently  after  his  quitting  the  stage, 
making  trial  of  other  orators  and  demagogues,  readily  ac- 
knowledged  that  there  never  had  been  in  nature  such  a dis- 
position as  his  was,  more  moderate  and  reasonable  in  the 
height  of  that  state  he  took  upon  him,  or  more  grave  and  im- 
pressive in  the  mildness  which  he  used.  And  that  invidious 
arbitrary  power,  to  which  formerly  they  gave  the  name  of 
monarachy  and  tyranny,  did  then  appear  to  have  been  the 
chief  bulwark  of  public  safety  ; so  great  a corruption  and  such 
a flood  of  mischief  and  vice  followed,  which  he,  by  keeping 
weak  and  low,  had  withheld  from  notice,  and  had  prevented 
from  attaining  incurable  height  through  a licentious  impunity. 


FABIUS. 

Having  related  the  memorable  actions  of  Pericles,  our 
history  now  proceeds  to  the  life  of  Fabius.  A son  of  Her- 
cules and  a nymph,  or  some  woman  of  that  country,  who 
brought  him  forth  on  the  banks  of  Tiber,  was,  it  is  said,  the 
first  Fabius,  the  founder  of  the  numerous  and  distinguished 
family  of  the  name.  Others  will  have  it  that  they  were 
first  called  Fodii,  because  the  first  of  the  race  delighted  in 
digging  pitfalls  for  wild  fodere  being  still  the  Latin 

for  to  dig,  and  fossa  for  a ditch,  and  that  in  process  of  time, 
by  the  change  of  the  two  letters  they  grew  to  be  called  Fabii. 
But  be  these  things  true  or  false,  certain  it  is  that  this  family 
for  a long  time  yielded  a great  number  of  eminent  persons- 
Our  Fabius,  who  was  fourth  in  descent  from  that  Fabius 
Rullus  who  first  brought  the  honorable  surname  of  Maximus 
into  his  family,  was  also,  by  way  of  personal  nickname,  called 
Verrucosus,  from  a wart  on  his  upper  lip  ; and  in  his  child- 
hood they  in  like  manner  named  him  Ovicula,  or  The  Lamb, 
on  account  of  his  extreme  mildness  of  temper.  His  slowness 


273 


in  speaking,  his  long  labor  and  pains  in  learning,  his  deliber- 
ation in  entering  into  the  sports  of  other  children,  his  easy 
submission  to  everybody,  as  if  he  had  no  will  of  his  own, 
made  those  who  judged  superficially  of  him,  the  greater  num- 
ber, esteem  him  insensible  and  stupid  ; and  few  only  saw  Unit 
this  tardiness  proceeded  from  stability,  and  discerned  the 
greatness  of  his  mind,  and  the  lionlikeness  of  his  temper. 
But  as  soon  as  he  came  into  employments,  his  virtues  exerted 
and  showed  themselves ; his  reputed  want  of  energy  then 
was  recognized  by  people  in  general,  as  a freedom  of  passion  ; 
his  slowness  in  words  and  actions,  the  effect  of  a true  pru- 
dence j his  want  of  rapidity  and  his  sl”5:gishness,  as  con- 
stancy and  firmness. 

Living  in  a great  commonwealth,  surrounded  by  many 
enemies,  he  saw  the  wisdom  of  inuring  his  body  (nature^s  own 
weapon)  to  warlike  exercises,  and  disciplining  his  tongue  for 
public  oratory  in  a style  conformable  to  his  life  and  charac- 
ter. His  eloquence,  indeed,  had  not  much  of  popular  orna- 
ment, nor  empty  artifice,  but  there  was  in  it  great  weight  of 
sense  ; it  was  strong  and  sententious,  much  after  the  way  of 
Thucydides.  We  have  yet  extant  his  funeral  oration  upon 
the  death  of  his  son,  who  died  consul,  which  he  recited  before 
the  people. 

He  was  five  times  consul,  and  in  his  first  consulship  had 
the  honor  of  a triumph  for  the  victory  he  gained  over  the 
Ligurians,  whom  he  defeated  in  a set  battle,  and  drove 
them  to  take  shelter  in  the  Alps,  from  whence  they  never 
after  made  any  inroad  or  depredation  upon  their  neigh- 
bors. After  this,  Hannibal  came  into  Italy,  who,  at  his 
first  entrance,  having  gained  a great  battle  near  the  river 
Trebia,  traversed  all  Tuscany  with  his  victorious  army, 
and,  desolating  the  country  round  about,  filled  Rome  itself 
with  astonishment  and  terror.  Besides  the  more  common 
signs  of  thunder  and  lightning  then  happening,  the  report  of 
several  unheard  of  and  utterly  strange  portents  much  increas- 
ed the  popular  consternation.  For  it  was  said  that  some 
targets  sweated  blood  ; that  at  Antium,  when  they  reaped 
their  corn,  many  of  the  ears  were  filled  with  blood  ; that  it 
had  rained  red-hot  stones  ; that  the  Fa^erians  had  seen  the 
heavens  open  and  several  scrolls  falling  down,  in  one  of 
which  was  plainly  written,  ‘‘  Mars  himself  stirs  his  arms.^* 
But  these  prodigies  had  no  effect  upon  the  impetuous  and 
fiery  temper  of  the  consul  Flaminius,  whose  natural  prompt- 
ness had  been  much  heightened  by  his  late  unexpected  vie- 

i8 


V4 


FABIUS. 


lory  over  the  Gauls,  when  he  fought  them  contrary  to  the 
order  of  the  senate  and  the  advice  of  his  colleague.  Fabius, 
on  the  other  side,  thought  it  not  seasonable  to  engage  with 
the  enemy ; not  that  he  much  regarded  the  prodigies,  which 
he  thought  too  strange  to  be  easily  understood,  though  many 
were  alarmed  by  them  ; but  in  regard  that  the  Carthaginians 
were  but  few,  and  in  want  of  money  and  supplies,  he  deemed 
it  best  not  to  meet  in  the  field  a general  whose  army  had 
been  tried  in  many  encounters,  and  whose  object  was  a bat- 
tle, but  to  send  aid  to  their  allies,  control  the  movements  of 
the  various  subject  cities,  and  let  the  force  and  vigor  of 
Hannibal  waste  away  and  expire,  like  a flame,  for  want  of 
aliment. 

These  weighty  reasons  did  not  prevail  with  Flaminius, 
who  protested  he  would  never  suffer  the  advance  of  the 
enemy  to  the  city,  nor  be  reduced,  like  Camillus  in  former 
time,  to  fight  for  Rome  within  the  walls  of  Rome.  Accord- 
ingly he  ordered  the  tribunes  to  draw  out  the  army  into  the 
field  ; and  though  he  himself,  leaping  on  horseback  to  go  out, 
was  no  sooner  mounted  but  the  beast,  without  any  apparent 
cause,  fell  into  so  violent  a fit  of  trembling  and  bounding  that 
he  cast  his  rider  headlong  on  the  ground,  he  was  no  ways 
deterred ; but  proceeded  as  he  had  begun,  and  marched  for- 
ward up  to  Hannibal,  who  was  posted  near  the  Lake  Thrasy- 
mene  in  Tuscany.  At  the  moment  of  this  engagement,  there 
Happen  so  great  an  earthquake,  that  it  destroy  several  towns, 
altered  the  course  of  rivers,  and  carried  off  parts  of  high  cliffs, 
yet  such  was  the  eagerness  of  the  combatants,  that  they 
were  entirely  insensible  of  it. 

In  this  battle  Flaminius  fell,  after  many  proofs  of  his 
strength  and  courage,  and  round  about  him  all  the  bravest  of 
the  army ; in  the  whole,  fifteen  thousand  were  killed,  and  as 
many  made  prisoners.  Hannibal,  desirous  to  bestow  funeral 
honors  upon  the  body  of  Flaminius,  made  diligent  search  after 
it,  but  could  not  find  it  among  the  dead,  nor  was  it  ever  known 
what  became  of  it.  Upon  the  former  engagement  near  Tre- 
bia,  neither  the  general  who  wrote,  nor  the  express  who  told 
the  news,  used  straightforward  and  direct  terms,  nor  related 
it  otherwise  than  as  a drawn  battle,  with  equal  loss  on  either 
side  ; but  on  this  occasion,  as  soon  as  Pomponius  the  praetor 
had  the  intelligence,  he  caused  the  people  to  assemble,  and, 
without  disguising  or  dissembling  the  matter,  told  them  plain 
ly,  *^We  are  beaten,  O Romans,  in  a great  battle  ; the  consul 
Flaminius  is  killed ; think,  therefore,  what  is  to  be  done  for 


FABIUS. 


275 


your  safety.’^  Letting  loose  his  news  like  a gale  of  wind  upon 
an  open  sea,  he  threw  the  city  into  utter  confusion  : in  such 
consternation,  their  thoughts  found  no  support  or  stay.  The 
danger  at  hand  at  last  awakened  their  judgments  into  a res- 
olution to  choose  a dictator,  who  by  the  sovereign  authority 
of  his  office,  and  by  his  personal  wisdom  and  courage,  might 
be  able  to  manage  the  public  affairs.  Their  choice  unan- 
^ imously  fell  upon  Fabius,  whose  character  seemed  equal  to 
the  greatness  of  the  office ; whose  age  was  so  far  advanced  as 
to  give  him  experience,  without  taking  from  him  the  vigor  of 
action ; his  body  could  execute  what  his  soul  designed  ; and 
his  temper  was  a happy  compound  of  confidence  and  cautious- 
ness. 

Fabius,  being  thus  installed  in  the  office  of  dictator,  in  the 
first  place  gave  the  command  of  the  horse  to  Lucius  Minu- 
cius  j and  next  asked  leave  of  the  senate  for  himself,  that  in 
time  of  battle  he  might  serve  on  horseback,  which  by  an  an- 
cient law  amongst  the  Romans  was  forbid  to  their  generals  ; 
whether  it  were,  that,  placing  their  greatest  strength  in  their 
foot,  they  would  have  their  commanders-in-chief  posted 
amongst  them,  or  else  to  let  them  know,  that,  how  great  and 
absolute  soever  their  authority  were,  the  people  and  senate 
were  still  their  masters,  of  whom  they  must  ask  leave.  Fabius, 
however,  to  make  the  authority  of  his  charge  more  observable, 
and  to  render  the  people  more  submissive  and  obedient  to 
him,  caused  himself  to  be  accompanied  with  the  full  body  of 
four  and  twenty  lictors ; and,  when  the  surviving  consul  came 
to  visit  him,  sent  him  word  to  dismiss  his  lictors  with  their 
fasces,  the  ensigns  of  authority,  and  appear  before  him  as  a 
private  person. 

The  first  solemn  action  of  his  dictatorship  was  very  fitly  a 
religious  one  : an  admonition  to  the  people,  that  their  late 
overthrow  had  not  befallen  them  through  want  of  courage  in 
their  soldiers,  but  through  the  neglect  of  divine  ceremonies  in 
the  general.  He  therefore  exhorted  them  not  to  fear  the  ei  e- 
my,  but  by  extraordinary  honor  to  propitiate  the  gods.  This 
he  did,  not  to  fill  their  minds  with  superstition,  but  by  relig- 
ious feeling  to  raise  their  courage,  and  lessen  their  fear  of 
the  enemy  by  inspiring  the  belief  that  Heaven  was  on  their 
side.  With  this  view,  the  secret  prophecies  called  the  Sibyl- 
line Books  were  consulted ; sundry  predictions  found  in  them 
were  said  to  refer  to  the  fortunes  and  events  of  the  time ; but 
none  except  the  consulter  was  informed.  Presenting  himself 
to  the  people,  the  dictator  made  a vow  before  them  to  offer 


276 


FABIUS. 


in  sacrifice  the  whole  product  of  the  next  season,  all  Italy 
over,  of  the  cows,  goats,  swine,  sheep,  both  in  the  mountains 
and  the  plains  ; and  to  celebrate  musical  festivities  with  an 
expenditure  of  the  precise  sum  of  333  sestertia  and  333  dena- 
rii, with  one-third  of  a denarius  over.  The  sum  total  of 
which  is,  in  our  money,  83,583  drachmas  and  2 obols.  What 
(he  mystery  might  be  in  that  exact  number  is  not  easy  to  de* 
termine,  unless  it  were  in  honor  of  the  perfection  of  the  num- 
ber three,  as  being  the  first  of  odd  numbers,  the  first  that  con- 
tains in  itself  multiplication,  with  all  other  properties  what- 
soever belonging  to  numbers  in  general. 

In  this  manner  Fabius  having  given  the  people  better 
heart  for  the  future,  by  making  them  believe  that  the  gods 
took  their  side,  for  his  own  part  placed  his  whole  confidence 
in  himself,  believing  that  the  gods  bestowed  victory  and  good 
fortune  by  the  instrumentality  of  valor  and  of  prudence  ; and 
thus  prepared  he  set  forth  to  oppose  Hannibal,  not  with  in- 
tention to  fight  him,  but  with  the  purpose  of  wearing  out  and 
wasting  the  vigor  of  his  arms  by  lapse  of  time,  of  meeting  his 
want  of  resources  by  superior  means,  by  large  numbers  the 
smallness  of  his  forces.  With  this  design,  he  always  en- 
camped on  the  highest  grounds,  where  the  enemy’s  horse  could 
have  no  access  to  him.  Still  he  kept  pace  with  them  ; when 
they  marched  he  followed  them  ; when  they  encamped  he  did 
the  same,  but  at  such  a distance  as  not  to  be  compelled  to  an 
engagement,  and  always  keeping  upon  the  hills,  free  from  the 
insults  of  their  horse  ; by  which  means  he  gave  them  no  rest, 
but  kept  them  in  a continual  alarm. 

But  this  his  dilatory  way  gave  occasion  in  his  own  camp 
for  suspicion  of  want  of  courage  ; and  this  opinion  prevailed 
yet  more  in  Hannibal's  army.  Hannibal  was  himself  the  only 
man  who  was  not  deceived,  who  discerned  his  skill  and  de- 
tected his  tactics,  and  saw,  unless  he  could  by  art  or  force 
bring  him  to  battle,  that  the  Carthaginians,  unable  to  use  the 
arms  in  which  they  were  superior,  and  suffering  the  continual 
drain  of  lives  and  treasure  in  which  they  were  inferior,  would 
in  the  end  come  to  nothing.  He  resolved,  therefore,  with  all 
the  arts  and  subtilties  of  war  to  break  his  measures,  and  to 
bring  Fabius  to  an  engagement  ; like  a cunning  wrestler, 
watching  every  opportunity  to  get  good  hold  and  close  with 
his  adversary.  He  at  one  time  attacked,  and  sought  to  dis- 
tract his  attention,  tried  to  draw  him  off  in  various  directions, 
and  endeavored  in  all  ways  to  tempt  him  from  his  safe  policy. 
All  this  artifice,  though  it  had  no  effect  upon  the  firm  judg* 


FABIUS. 


277 


merit  and  conviction  of  the  dictator,  yet  upon  the  common  sol- 
dier, and  even  upon  the  general  of  the  horse  himself,  it  had 
too  great  an  operation  : Minucius,  unseasonably  eager  for 
action,  bold  and  confident,  humored  the  soldiery,  and  him- 
self contributed  to  fill  them  with  wild  eagerness  and  empty 
hopes,  which  they  vented  in  reproaches  upon  Fabius,  calling 
him  Hannibal’s  pedagogue,  since  he  did  nothing  else  but  fol- 
low him  up  and  down  and  wait  upon  him.  At  the  same  time, 
they  cried  up  Minucius  for  the  only  captain  worthy  to  com- 
mand the  Romans  ; whose  vanity  and  presumption  rose  so 
high  in  consequence,  that  he  insolently  jested  at  Fabius’s  en- 
campments upon  the  mountains,  saying  that  he  seated  them 
there  as  on  a theatre,  to  behold  the  flames  and  desolation  of 
their  country.  And  he  would  sometimes  ask  the  friends  of  the 
general,  whether  it  were  not  his  meaning,  by  thus  leading 
them  from  mountain  to  mountain,  to  carry  them  at  last  (hav- 
ing no  hopes  on  earth)  up  into  heaven,  or  to  hide  them  in  the 
clouds  from  Hannibal’s  army  ? When  his  friends  reported 
these  things  to  the  dictator,  persuading  him  that,  to  avoid 
the  general  obloquy,  he  should  engage  the  enemy,  his  answer 
was,  I should  be  more  faint-hearted  than  they  make  me,  if, 
through  fear  of  idle  reproaches,  I should  abandon  my  own 
convictions.  It  is  no  inglorious  thing  to  have  fear  for  the 
safety  of  our  country,  but  to  be  turned  from  one’s  course  by 
men’s  opinions,  by  blame,  and  by  misrepresentation,  shows 
a man  unfit  to  hold  an  office  such  as  this,  which,  by  such  con- 
duct, he  makes  the  slave  of  those  whose  errors  it  is  his  busi- 
ness to  control.” 

An  oversight  of  Hannibal  occurred  soon  ofter.  Desirous 
to  refresh  his  horse  in  some  good  pasture-grounds,  and  to 
draw  off  his  army,  he  ordered  his  guides  to  conduct  him  to  the 
district  of  Casinum.  They,  mistaking  his  bad  pronunciation, 
led  him  and  his  army  to  the  town  of  Casilinum,  on  the  Ircn- 
t^'er  of  Campania  which  the  river  Lothronus,  called  by  the 
Romans  Vulturnus,  divides  in  two  parts.  The  country  around 
IS  enclosed  by  mountains,  with  a valley  opening  towards  the 
sea,  in  which  the  river  overflowing  forms  a quantity  of  marsh 
land  with  deep  banks  of  sand,  and  discharges  itself  into  the 
sea  on  a very  unsafe  and  rough  shore.  While  Hannibal  was 
proceeding  hither,  Fabius,  by  his  knowledge  of  the  roads, 
succeeded  in  making  his  way  around  before  him,  and  de- 
spatched four  thousand  choice  men  to  seize  the  exit  from  it 
and  stop  him  up,  and  lodged  the  rest  of  his  army  upon  the 
neighboring  hilis  in  the  most  advantageous  places  ; at  the 


FABIUS. 


2jS 

same  time  detaching  a party  of  his  lightest  armed  men  to  fall 
upon  Hannibal’s  rear  ; which  they  did  with  such  success,  that 
they  cut  off  eight  hundred  of  them,  and  put  the  whole  army  ia 
disorder.  Hannibal,  finding  the  error  and  the  danger  he  was 
fallen  into,  immediately  crucified  the  guides  ; but  considered 
the  enemy  to  be  so  advantageously  posted,  that  there  was  no 
hopes  of  breaking  through  them  ; while  his  soldiers  began  to 
be  despondent  and  terrified,  and  to  think  themselves  sur« 
rounded  with  embarrassments  too  difficult  to  be  surmounted. 

Thus  reduced,  Hannibal  had  recourse  to  stratagem ; he 
caused  two  thousand  head  of  oxen  which  he  had  in  his  camp, 
to  have  torches  or  dry  fagots  well  fastened  to  their  horns,  and 
lighting  them  in  the  beginning  of  the  night,  ordered  the 
beasts  to  be  driven  on  towards  the  heights  commanding  the 
passages  out  of  the  valley  and  the  enemy’s  posts ; when  this 
was  done,  he  made  his  army  in  the  dark  leisurely  march  after 
them.  The  oxen  at  first  kept  a slow  orderly  pace,  and  with 
their  lighted  heads  resembled  an  army  marching  by  night, 
astonishing  the  shepherds  and  herdsmen  of  the  hills  about. 
But  when  the  fire  had  burnt  down  the  horns  of  the  beasts  to 
the  quick,  they  no  longer  observed  their  sober  pace,  but,  un- 
ruly and  wild  with  their  pain,  ran  dispersed  about,  tossing 
their  heads  and  scattering  the  fire  round  about  them  upon 
each  other  and  setting  light  as  they  passed  to  the  trees.  This 
was  a surprising  spectacle  to  the  Romans  on  guard  upon  the 
heights.  Seeing  flames  which  appeared  to  come  from  men 
advancing  with  torches,  they  were  possessed  with  the  alarm 
that  the  enemy  was  approaching  in  various  quarters,  and  that 
they  were  being  surrounded  ; and,  quitting  their  post,  aban- 
doned the  pass,  and  precipitately  retired  to  their  camp  on  the 
hills.  They  were  no  sooner  gone,  but  the  light-armed  of  Han- 
nibal’s men,  according  to  his  order,  immediately  seized  the 
heights,  and  soon  after  the  whole  army,  with  all  the  baggage, 
came  up  and  safely  marched  through  the  passes. 

Fabius,  before  the  night  was  over,  quickly  found  out  the 
trick  ; for  some  of  the  beasts  fell  into  his  hands  ; but  for  fear 
of  an  ambush  in  the  dark,  he  kept  his  men  all  night  to  their 
arms  in  the  camp.  As  soon  as  it  was  day,  he  attacked  the 
enemy  in  the  rear,  where,  after  a good  deal  of  skirmishing  in 
the  uneven  ground,  the  disorder  might  have  become  general, 
but  that  Hannibal  detached  from  his  van  a body  of  Spaniards, 
who,  of  themselves  active  and  nimble,  were  accustomed  to  the 
climbing  of  mountains.  These  briskly  attacked  the  Roman 
troops  who  were  in  heavy  armor,  killed  a good  many,  and  left 


FABIUS. 


279 

Fabius  no  longer  in  condition  to  follow  the  enemy.  This  ac- 
tion brought  the  extreme  of  obloquy  and  contempt  upon  the 
dictator  ; they  said  it  was  now  manifest  that  he  was  not  only 
inferior  to  his  adversary,  as  they  had  always  thought,  in  cour- 
age, but  even  in  that  conduct,  foresight,  and  generalship,  by 
which  he  had  proposed  to  bring  the  war  to  an  end. 

And  Hannibal,  to  enhance  their  anger  against  him, 
marched  with  his  army  close  to  the  lands  and  possessions  of 
Fabius,  and,  giving  orders  to  his  soldiers  to  burn  and  destroy 
all  the  country  about,  forbade  them  to  do  the  least  damage  in 
the  estates  of  the  Roman  general,  and  placed  guards  for  their 
security.  This,  when  reported  at  Rome,  had  the  effect  with 
the  people  which  Hannibal  desired.  Their  tribunes  raised  a 
thousand  stories  against  him,  chiefly  at  the  instigation  of 
Metilius,  who,  not  so  much  out  of  hatred  to  -him  as  out  of 
friendship  to  Minucius,  whose  kinsman  he  was,  thought  by 
depressing  Fabius  to  raise  his  friend.  The  senate  on  their 
part  were  also  offended  with  him  for  the  bargain  he  had 
made  with  Hannibal  about  the  exchange  of  prisoners,  the 
conditions  of  which  were,  that,  after  exchange  made  of  man 
for  man,  if  any  on  either  side  remained,  they  should  be  re- 
deemed at  the  price  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  drachmas  a 
head.  Upon  the  whole  account,  there  remained  two  hundred 
and  forty  Romans  unexchanged,  and  the  senate  now  not  only 
refused  to  allow  money  for  the  ransoms,  but  also  reproached 
Fabius  for  making  a contract,  contrary  to  the  honor  and  in- 
terest of  the  commonwealth,  for  redeeming  men  whose  coward- 
ice had  put  them  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  Fabius  heard 
and  endured  all  this  with  invincible  patience  ; and,  having  no 
money  by  him,  and  on  the  other  side  being  resolved  to  keep 
his  word  with  Hannibal  and  not  to  abandon  the  captives,  he 
despatched  his  son  to  Rome  to  sell  land,  and  to  bring  with 
him  the  price,  sufficient  to  discharge  the  ransoms ; which  was 
punctually  performed  by  his  son,  and  delivery  accordingly 
made  to  him  of  the  prisoners,  amongst  whom  many,  when 
they  were  released,  made  proposals  to  repay  the  money; 
which  Fabius  in  all  cases  declined. 

About  this  time,  he  was  called  to  Rome  by  the  priests,  to 
assist,  according  to  the  duty  of  his  office,  at  certain  sacrifices, 
and  was  thus  forced  to  leave  the  command  of  the  army  with 
Minucius ; but  before  he  parted,  not  only  charged  him  as  his 
commander-in-chief,  but  besought  and  entreated  him  not  to 
come,  in  his  absence,  to  a battle  with  Hannibal.  His  com- 
mands, entreaties,  and  advice  were  lost  upon  Minucius  ; for 


28o 


FABIUS. 


his  back  was  no  sooner  turned  but  the  new  general  immedi- 
ately sought  occasisons  to  attack  the  enemy.  And  notice 
being  brought  him  that  Hannibal  had  sent  out  a great  party 
of  his  army  to  forage,  he  fell  upon  a detachment  of  the  re- 
mainder, doing  great  execution,  and  driving  them  to  their 
very  camp,  with  no  little  terror  to  the  rest,  who  apprehended 
their  breaking  in  upon  them ; and  when  Hannibal  had  re- 
called his  scattered  forces  to  the  camp,  he,  nevertheless, 
without  any  loss,  made  his  retreat,  a success  which  aggravated 
his  boldness  and  presumption,  and  filled  the  soldiers  with  rash 
confidence.  The  news  spread  to  Rome,  where  Fabius,  on 
being  told  it,  said  that  what  he  most  feared  was  Minucius^s 
success ; but  the  people,  highly  elated,  hurried  to  the  forum 
to  listen  to  an  address  from  Metilius  the  tribune,  in  which  he 
infinitely  extolled  the  valor  of  Minucius,  and  fell  bitterly  upon 
Fabius,  accusing  him  for  want  not  merely  of  courage,  but  even 
of  loyalty  ; and  not  only  him,  but  also  many  other  eminent 
and  considerable  persons ; saying  that  it  was  they  that  had 
brought  the  Carthaginians  into  Italy,  with  the  design  to 
destroy  the  liberty  of  the  people  ; for  which  end  they  had  at 
once  put  the  supreme  authority  into  the  hands  of  a single 
person,  who  by  his  slowness  and  delays  might  give  Hannibal 
leisure  to  establish  himself  in  Italy,  and  the  people  of  Carthage 
time  and  opportunity  to  supply  him  with  fresh  succors  to 
complete  his  conquest. 

Fabius  came  forward  with  no  intention  to  answer  the 
tribune,  but  only  said,  that  they  should  expedite  the  sacrifices, 
that  so  he  might  speedily  return  to  the  army  to  punish  Minu- 
cius, who  had  presumed  to  fight  contrary  to  his  orders ; words 
which  immediately  possessed  the  people  with  the  belief  that 
Minucius  stood  in  danger  of  his  life.  For  it  was  in  the  power 
of  the  dictator  to  imprison  and  to  put  to  death,  and  they 
feared  that  Fabius,  of  a mild  temper  in  general,  would  be  as 
hard  to  be  appeased  when  once  irritated,  as  he  was  slow  to 
be  provoked.  Nobody  dared  to  raise  his  voice  in  opposition  ; 
Metilius  alone,  whose  office  of  tribune  gave  him  security  to  say 
what  he  pleased  (for  in  the  time  of  a dictatorship  that  mag- 
istrate alone  preserves  his  authority),  boldly  applied  himself 
to  the  people  in  the  behalf  of  Minucius  : that  they  should  not 
suffer  him  to  be  made  a sacrifice  to  the  enmity  of  Fabius,  nor 
permit  him  to  be  destroyed,  like  the  son  of  Manlius  Torquatus, 
who  was  beheaded  by  his  father  for  a victory  fought  and 
triumphantly  won  against  order  ; he  exhorted  them  to  take 
away  from  Fabius  that  absolute  power  of  a dictator,  and  to 


FABIUS. 


281 


put  it  into  more  worthy  hands,  better  able  and  more  inclined 
to  use  it  for  the  public  good.  These  impressions  very  much 
prevailed  upon  the  people,  though  not  so  far  as  wholly  to 
dispossess  Fabius  of  the  dictatorship.  But  they  decreed  that 
Minucius  should  have  an  equal  authority  with  the  dictator  in 
the  conduct  of  the  war  ; which  was  a thing  then  without  pre- 
cedent, though  a little  later  it  was  again  practised  after  the 
disaster  at  Cannae  ; when  the  dictator,  Marcus  Junius,  being 
with  the  army,  they  chose  at  Rome  Fabius  Buteo  dictator, 
that  he  might  create  new  senators,  to  supply  the  numerous 
places  of  those  who  were  killed.  But  as  soon  as,  once  acting 
in  public,  he  had  filled  those  vacant  places  with  a sufficient 
number,  he  immediately  dismissed  his  lictors,  and  withdrew 
from  all  his  attendance,  and  mingling  like  a common  person 
with  the  rest  of  the  people,  quietly  went  about  his  own  affairs 
in  the  forum. 

The  enemies  of  Fabius  thought  they  had  sufficiently 
humiliated  and  subdued  him  by  raising  Minucius  to  be  his 
equal  in  authority  ; but  they  mistook  the  temper  of  the  man 
who  looked  upon  their  folly  as  not  his  loss,  but  like  Diogenes, 
who,  being  told  that  some  persons  derided  him,  made  answer. 
But  I am  not  derided,’’  meaning  that  only  those  were  really 
insulted  on  whom  such  insults  made  an  impression,  so  Fabius, 
with^  great  * tranquillity  and  unconcern,  submitted  to  what 
happened,  and  contributed  a proof  to  the  argument  of  the 
philosophers  that  a just  and  good  man  is  not  capable  of  being 
dishonored.  His  only  vexation  arose  from  his  fear  lest  this 
ill  counsel,  by  supplying  opportunities  to  the  diseased  military 
ambition  of  his  subordinate,  should  damage  the  public  cause. 
Lest  the  rashness  of  Minucius  should  now  at  once  run  head- 
long into  some  disaster,  he  returned  back  with  all  privacy 
and  speed  to  the  army  ; where  he  found  Minucius  so  elevated 
with  his  new  dignity,  that,  a joint-authority  not  contenting 
him,  he  required  by  turns  to  have  the  command  of  the  army 
every  other  day.  TTiis  Fabius  rejected,  but  was  contented 
that  the  army  should  be  divided  ; thinking  each  general  singly 
would  better  command  his  part,  than  partially  command  the 
whole.  The  first  and  fourth  legion  he  took  tor  his  own  divis- 
ion, the  second  and  third  he  delivered  to  Minucius;  so  also 
of  the  auxiliary  forces  each  had  an  equal  share. 

Minucius,  thus  exalted,  could  not  contain  himself  from 
boasting  of  his  success  in  humiliating  the  high  and  powerful 
office  of  the  dictatorship.  Fabius  quietly  reminded  him  that 
it  was,  in  all  wisdom,  Hannibal,  and  not  Fabius,  whom  he 


282 


FABIUS. 


had  to  combat  ,*  but  if  he  must  needs  contend  with  his  coi« 
league,  it  had  best  be  in  diligence  and  care  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  Rome  ; that  it  might  not  be  said,  a man  so  favored  by 
the  people  served  them  worse  than  he  who  had  been  ill-treated 
and  disgraced  by  them. 

The  young  general,  despising  these  admonitions  as  the 
false  humility  of  age,  immediately  removed  with  the  body  of 
his  army,  and  encamped  by  himself.  Hannibal,  who  was  not 
ignorant  of  all  these  passages,  lay  watching  his  advantage 
from  them.  It  happened  that  between  his  army  and  that  of 
Minucius  there  was  a certain  eminence,  which  seemed  a very 
advantageous  and  not  difficult  post  to  encamp  upon  ; the 
level  field  around  it  appeared,  from  a distance,  to  be  all 
smooth  and  even,  though  it  had  many  inconsiderable  ditches 
and  dips  in  it,  not  discernible  to  the  eye.  Hannibal,  had  he 
pleased,  could  easily  have  possessed  himself  of  this  ground  ; 
but  he  had  reserved  it  for  a bait,  or  train,  in  proper  season,  to 
draw  the  Romans  to  an  engagement.  Now  that  Minucius 
and  Fabius  were  divided,  he  thought  the  opportunity  fair  for 
his  purpose  ; and,  therefore,  having  in  the  night  time  lodged 
a convenient  number  of  his  men  in  these  ditches  and  hollow 
places,  early  in  the  morning  he  sent  forth  a small  detachm.ent, 
who,  in  the  sight  of  Minucius,  proceeded  to  possess  themselves 
of  the  rising  ground.  According  to  his  expectation,  Minucius 
swallowed  the  bait,  and  first  sends  out  his  light  troops,  and 
after  them  some  horse,  to  dislodge  the  enemy ; and,  at  last, 
when  he  saw  Hannibal  in  person  advancing  to  the  assistance 
of  his  men,  marched  down  with  his  whole  army  drawn  upv 
He  engaged  with  the  troops  on  the  eminence,  and  sustained 
their  missiles ; the  combat  for  some  time  was  equal  ; but  as 
soon  as  Hannibal  perceived  that  the  whole  army  was  now 
sufficiently  advanced  within  the  toils  he  had  set  for  them,  so 
that  their  backs  were  open  to  his  men  whom  he  had  posted 
in  the  hollows,  he  gave  the  signal ; upon  which  they  rushed 
forth  from  various  quarters^  and  with  loud  cries  furiously  at- 
tacked Minucius  in  the  rear.  The  surprise  and  the  slaughter 
was  great,  and  struck  universal  alarm  and  disorder  through 
the  whole  army.  Minucius  himself  lost  all  his  confidence  ; 
he  looked  from  officer  to  officer,  and  found  all  alike  unpre- 
pared to  face  the  danger,  and  yielding  to  a flight,  which,  how- 
ever, could  not  end  in  safety.  The  Numidian  horsemen  were 
already  in  full  victory  riding  about  the  plain,  cutting  down 
the  fugitives. 

Fabius  was  not  ignorant  of  this  danger  of  his  countrymen 


FABIUS. 


283 


he  foresaw  what  would  happen  from  the  rashness  of  Minucius, 
and  the  cunning  of  Hannibal ; and,  therefore,  kept  his  men 
to  their  arms,  in  readiness  to  wait  the  event ; nor  would  he 
trust  to  the  reports  of  others,  but  he  himself,  in  front  of  his 
camp,  viewed  all  that  passed.  When,  therefore,  he  saw  the 
army  of  Minucius  encompassed  by  the  enemy,  and  that  by 
their  countenance  and  shifting  their  ground,  they  appeared 
more  disposed  to  flight  than  to  resistance,  with  a great  sigh, 
striking  his  hand  upon  his  thigh,  he  said  to  those  about  him, 
“ O Hercules ! how  much  sooner  than  I expected,  though 
later  than  he  seemed  to  desire,  hath  Minucius  destroyed  him  , 
self ! He  then  commanded  the  ensigns  to  be  led  forward, 
and  the  army  to  follow,  telling  them,  “We  must  make  haste 
to  rescue  Minucius,  who  is  a valiant  man,  and  a lover  of  his 
country ; and  if  he  hath  been  too  forward  to  engage  the 
enemy,  at  another  time  we  will  tell  him  of  it/’  Thus,  at  the 
head  of  his  men,  Fabius  marched  up  to  the  enemy,  and  first 
cleared  the  plain  of  the  Numidians  ; and  next  fell  upon  those 
who  were  charging  the  Romans  in  the  rear,  cutting  down  all 
that  made  opposition,  and  obliging  the  rest  to  save  themselves 
by  a hasty  retreat,  lest  they  should  be  environed  as  the 
Romans  had  been.  Hannibal,  seeing  so  sudden  a change  of 
affairs,  and  Fabius,  beyond  the  force  of  his  age,  opening  his 
way  through  the  ranks  up  the  hill-side,  that  he  might  join 
Minucius,  warily  forbore,  sounded  a retreat,  and  drew  off  his 
men  into  their  camp  ; while  the  Romans  on  their  part  were 
no  less  contented  to  retire  in  safety.  It  is  reported  that  upon 
this  occasion  Hannibal  said  jestingly  to  his  friends  : “ Did 
not  I tell  you,  that  this  cloud  which  always  hovered  upon  the 
mountains  would,  at  some  time  or  other,  come  down  with  a 
storm  upon  us  ?” 

Fabius,  after  his  men  had  picked  up  the  spoils  of  the 
field,  retired  to  his  own  camp,  without  saying  any  harsh  or 
reproachful  thing  to  his  colleague  ; who,  also  on  his  part, 
gathering  his  army  together,  spoke  and  said  to  them  : “ To 
conduct  great  matters  and  never  commit  a fault  is  above  the 
force  of  human  nature ; but  to  learn  and  improve  by  the 
faults  we  have  committed,  is  that  which  becomes  a good  and 
sensible  man.  Some  reasons  I may  have  to  accuse  fortune, 
but  I liave  many  more  to  thank  her ; for  in  a few  hours  she 
hath  cured  a long  mistake,  and  taught  me  that  I am  not  the 
man  who  should  command  others,  but  have  need  of  another 
to  command  me ; and  that  we  are  not  to  contend  for  victory 
over  those  to  whom  it  is  our  advantage  to  yield.  Therefoie 


284 


FABIUS. 


in  every  thing  else  henceforth  the  dictator  must  be  your  com 
mander  ; only  in  showing  gratitude  towards  him  I will  still  be 
your  leader,  and  always  be  the  first  to  obey  his  orders/’ 
Having  said  this,  he  commanded  the  Roman  eagles  to  move 
forward,  and  all  his  men  to  follow  him  to  the  camp  of  Fabius. 
The  soldiers,  then,  as  he  entered,  stood  amazed  at  the  novelty 
of  the  sight,  and  were  anxious  and  doubtful  what  the  mean- 
ing might  be.  When  he  came  near  the  dictator’s  tent,  Fabi../s 
went  forth  to  meet  him,  on  which  he  at  once  laid  his  stand- 
ards at  his  feet,  calling  him  with  a loud  voice  his  father  ; 
while  the  soldiers  with  him  saluted  the  soldiers  here  as  their 
patrons,  the  term  employed  by  freedmen  to  those  who  gave 
them  their  liberty.  After  silence  was  obtained,  Minucius 
said,  You  have  this  day,  O dictator,  obtained  two  victories  j 
one  by  your  valor  and  conduct  over  Hannibal,  and  another 
by  your  wisdom  and  goodness  over  your  colleague  j by  one 
victory  you  preserved,  and  by  the  other  instructed  us  ; and 
when  we  were  already  suffering  one  shameful  defeat  from 
Hannibal,  by  another  welcome  one  from  you  we  were  re- 
stored to  honor  and  safety.  I can  address  you  by  no  nobler 
name  than  that  of  a kind  father,  though  a father’s  beneficence 
falls  short  of  that  I have  received  from  you.  From  a father 
I individually  received  the  gift  of  life ; to  you  I owe  its  pres- 
ervation not  for  myself  only,  but  for  ail  these  who  are  under 
me.”  After  this,  he  threw  himself  into  the  arms  of  the  dicta- 
tor ; and  in  the  same  manner  the  soldiers  of  each  army 
embraced  one  another  with  gladness  and  tears  of  joy. 

Not  long  after,  Fabius  laid  down  the  dictatorship,  and 
consuls  were  again  created.  Those  who  immediately  sue 
ceeded,  observed  the  same  method  in  managing  the  war,  and 
avoided  all  occasions  of  fighting  Hannibal  in  a pitched  battle  ; 
they  only  succored  their  allies,  and  preserved  the  towns  from 
falling  off  to  the  enemy.  But  afterwards,  when  Terentius 
Varro,  a man  of  obscure  birth,  but  very  popular  and  bold, 
had  obtained  the  consulship,  he  soon  made  it  appear  that  by 
his  rashness  and  ignorance  he  would  stake  the  whole  com- 
monwealth on  the  hazard.  For  it  was  his  custom  to  declaim 
in  all  assemblies,  that,  as  long  as  Rome  employed  generals 
like  Fabius,  there  never  would  be  an  end  of  the  war;  vaunt- 
ing that  whenever  he  should  get  sight  of  the  enemy,  he  would 
that  same  day  free  Italy  from  the  strangers.  With  these 
promises  he  so  prevailed,  that  he  raised  a greater  army  than 
had  ever  yet  been  sent  out  of  Rome.  There  were  enlisted 
eighty-eight  thousand  fighting  men ; but  what  gave  confidence 


FABIUS. 


285 


to  the  populace,  only  terrified  the  wise  and  experienced,  and 
none  more  than  Fabius  ; since  if  so  great  a body,  and  the 
flower  of  the  Roman  youth,  should  be  cut  off,  they  could  not 
see  any  new  resource  for  the  safety  of  Rome.  They  ad- 
dressed themselves,  therefore,  to  the  other  consul,  ^milius 
PauluS;  a man  of  great  experience  in  war,  but  unpopular,  and 
fearful  also  of  the  people,  who  once  before  upon  some  im- 
peachment had  condemned  him  ; so  that  he  needed  encour- 
agement to  withstand  his  colleague’s  temerity.  Fabius  told 
him,  if  he  would  profitably  serve  his  country,  he  must  no  less 
oppose  Varro’s  ignorant  eagerness  than  Hannibal’s  conscious 
readiness,  since  both  alike  conspired  to  decide  the  fate  of 
Rome  by  a battle.  ‘‘  It  is  more  reasonable,”  he  said  to  him, 
“ that  you  should  believe  me  than  Varro,  in  matters  relating 
to  Flannibal,  when  I tell  you  that  if  for  this  year  you  abstain 
from  fighting  with  him,  either  his  army  wiW  perish  of  itself,  or 
else  he  will  be  glad  to  depart  of  his  own  will.  This  evidently 
appears,  inasmuch  as,  notwithstanding  his  victories,  none  of 
the  countries  or  towns  of  Italy  come  in  to  him,  and  his  army 
is  not  now  the  third  part  of  what  it  was  at  first.”  . To  this 
Paulus  is  said  to  have  replied,  “ Did  I only  consider  myself, 
I should  rather  choose  to  be  exposed  to  the  weapons  of  Han- 
nibal than  once  more  to  the  suffrages  of  my  fellow-citizens, 
who  are  urgent  for  what  you  disapprove  ; yet  since  the  cause 
of  Rome  is  at  stake,  I will  rather  seek  in  my  conduct  to 
please  and  obey  Fabius  than  all  the  world  besides.” 

These  good  measures  were  defeated  by  the  importunity  of 
Varro  ; whom,  when  they  were  both  come  to  the  army,  noth- 
ing would  content  but  a separate  command,  that  each  consul 
should  have  his  day ; and  when  his  turn  came,  he  posted  his 
army  close  to  Hannibal,  at  a village  called  Cannae,  by  the 
river  Aufidus.  It  was  no  sooner  day,  but  he  set  up  the 
scarlet  coat  flying  over  his  tent,  which  was  the  signal  of 
battle.  This  boldness  of  the  consul,  and  the  numerousness 
of  his  army,  double  theirs,  startled  the  Carthaginians;  but 
Hannibal  commanded  them  to  their  arms,  and  with  a small 
train  rode  out  to  take  a full  prospect  of  the  enemy  as  they 
were  now  forming  in  their  ranks,  from  a rising  ground  not  far 
distant.  One  of  his  followers,  called  Cisco,  a Carthaginian 
of  equal  rank  with  himself,  told  him  that  the  numbers  of  the 
enemy  were  astonishing;  to  which  Hannibal  replied  with  a 
serious  countenance,  “ There  is  one  thing,  Cisco,  yet  more 
astonishing,  which  you  take  no  notice  of  ; ” and  when  Cisco 
inquired  what,  answered,  that  in  all  those  great  numbers 


286 


FABIUS. 


before  us,  there  is  not  one  man  called  Cisco.”  This  unex- 
pected jest  of  their  general  made  all  the  company  laugh,  and 
as  they  came  down  from  the  hill  they  told  it  to  those  whom 
they  met,  which  caused  a general  laughter  amongst  them  all, 
from  which  they  were  hardly  able  to  recover  themselves.  The 
army,  seeing  Hannibal’s  attendants  come  back  from  viewing 
the  enemy  in  such  a laughing  condition,  concluded  that  it 
must  be  profound  contempt  of  the  enemy,  that  made  their 
general  at  this  moment  indulge  in  such  hilarity. 

According  to  his  usual  manner,  Hannibal  employed  strata- 
gems to  advantage  liimself.  In  the  first  place,  he  so  drew  up 
his  men  that  the  wind  was  at  their  backs,  which  at  that  time 
blew  with  a perfect  storm  of  violence,  and,  sweeping  over  the 
great  plains  of  sand,  carried  before  it  a cloud  of  dust  over  the 
Carthaginian  army  into  the  faces  of  the  Romans,  which  much 
disturbed  them  in  the  fight.  In  the  next  place,  all  his  best 
men  he  put  into  his  wings  ; and  in  the  body  which  was  some- 
what more  advanced  than  the  wings,  placed  the  worst  and  the 
weakest  of  his  army.  He  commanded  those  in  the  wings, 
that,  when  the  enemy  had  made  a thorough  charge  upon  that 
middle  advanced  body,  which  he  knew  would  recoil,  as  not 
being  able  to  withstand  their  shock,  and  when  the  Romans 
in  their  pursuit,  should  be  far  enough  engaged  within  the  two 
wings,  they  should,  both  on  the  right  and  the  left,  charge 
them  in  the  flank,  and  endeavor  to  encompass  them.  This 
appears  to  have  been  the  chief  cause  of  the  Roman  loss. 
Pressing  upon  Hannibal’s  front,  which  gave  ground,  they  re- 
duced the  form  of  his  army  into  a perfect  half-moon,  and 
gave  ample  opportunity  to  the  captains  of  the  chosen  troops 
to  charge  them  right  and  left  on  their  flanks,  and  to  cut  off 
and  destroy  all  who  did  not  fall  back  before  the  Carthaginian 
wings  united  in  their  rear,  To  this  general  calamity,  it  is  also 
said,  that  a strange  mistake  among  the  cavalry  much  con- 
tributed. For  the  horse  of  ^milius  receiving  a hurt  and 
throwing  his  master,  those  about  him  immediately  alighted  to 
aid  the  consul  ; and  the  Roman  troops,  seeing  their  com- 
manders thus  quitting  their  horses,  took  it  for  a sign  that 
they  should  all  dismount  and  charge  the  enemy  on  foot.  At 
the  sight  of  this,  Hannibal  was  heard  to  say,  This  pleases 
me  better  than  if  they  had  been  delivered  to  me  bound  hand 
and  foot.”  For  the  particulars  of  this  engagement,  we  refer 
our  reader  to  those  authors  who  have  written  at  large  upon 
the  subject. 

The  consul  Varro,  with  a thin  company,  fled  to  Ve.nusia  ; 


FABIUS. 


287 


^Emilius  Paulus,  unable  any  longer  to  oppose  the  flight  of 
his  men,  or  the  pursuit  of  the  enemy,  his  body  all  covered 
with  wounds,  and  his  soul  no  less  wounded  with  grief,  sat 
himself  down  upon  a stone,  expecting  the  kindness  of  a 
despatching  blow.  His  face  was  so  disfigured,  and  all  his 
person  so  stained  with  blood,  that  his  very  friends  and 
domestics  passing  by  knew  him  not.  At  last  Cornelius  Len- 
tulus,  a young  man  of  patrician  race,  perceiving  who  he  was, 
alighted  from  his  horse,  and,  tendering  it  to  him,  desired  him 
to  get  up  and  save  a life  so  necessary  to  the  safety  of  the 
commonwealth,  which,  at  this  time,  would  dearly  want  so 
great  a captain.  But  nothing  could  prevail  upon  him  to 
accept  of  the  offer ; he  obliged  young  Lentulus,  with  tears  in 
his  eyes,  to  remount  his  horse ; then  standing  up,  he  gave 
him  his  hand,  and  commanded  him  to  tell  Fabius  Maximus 
that  ^milius  Paulus  had  followed  his  directions  to  his  very 
last,  and  had  not  in  the  least  deviated  from  those  measures 
which  were  agreed  between  them  ; but  that  it  was  his  hard 
fate  to  be  overpowered  by  Varro  in  the  first  place,  and 
secondly  by  Hannibal.  Having  despatched  Lentulus  with 
this  commission,  he  marked  where  the  slaughter  was  greatest, 
and  there  threw  himself  upon  the  swords  of  the  enemy.  In 
this  battle  it  is  reported  that  fifty  thousand  Romans  were 
slain,  four  thousand  prisoners  taken  in  the  field,  and  ten 
thousand  in  the  camp  of  both  consuls. 

The  friends  of  Hannibal  earnestly  persuaded  him  to  follow 
up  his  victory,  and  pursue  the  flying  Romans  into  the  very 
gates  of  Rome,  assuring  him  that  in  five  days’  time  he  might 
sup  in  the  capitol  ; nor  is  it  easy  to  imagine  what  consideration 
hindered  him  from  it.  It  would  seem  rather  that  some  su- 
pernatural or  divine  intervention  caused  the  hesitation  and 
timidity  which  he  now  displayed,  and  which  made  Barcas,  a 
Carthaginian,  tell  him  with  indignation,  You  know,  Hannibal, 
how  to  gain  a victory,  but  not  how  to  use  it.”  Yet  it  produced 
a marvellous  revolution  in  his  affairs ; he,  wdio  hitherto  had 
not  one  town,  market  or  seaport  in  his  possession,  who  had 
nothing  for  the  subsistence  of  his  men  but  what  he  pillaged 
from  day  to  day,  who  had  no  place  of  retreat  or  basis  of  opera- 
tion, but  w'as  roving,  as  it  w^ere,  with  a huge  troop  of  ban- 
ditti, now  became  master  of  the  best  provinces  and  towns  of 
Italy,  and  of  Capua  itself,  next  to  Rome  the  most  flourishing 
and  opulent  city,  all  which  came  over  to  him,  and  submitted 
to  his  authority. 

It  is  the  saying  of  Euripides,  that  “ a man  is  in  ill-case 


FABIUS. 


288 

when  lie  must  try  a friend/’  and  so  neither,  it  would  seem,  is 
a state  in  a good  one,  when  it  needs  an  able  general.  And 
so  it  was  with  the  Romans ; the  counsels  and  actions  of 
Fabius,  which,  before  the  battle,  they  had  branded  as  cowardice 
and  fear,  now,  in  the  other  extreme,  they  accounted  to  have 
been  more  than  human  wisdom  ; as  though  nothing  but  a 
divine  power  of  intellect  could  have  seen  so  far,  and  foretold, 
contrary  to  the  judgment  of  all  others,  a result  which,  even 
now  it  had  arrived,  was  hardly  credible.  In  him,  therefore^ 
they  placed  their  whole  remaining  hopes  ; his  wisdom  was  the 
sacred  altar  and  temple  to  which  they  fled  for  refuge,  and  his 
counsels,  more  than  anything,  preserved  them  from  dispersing 
and  deserting  their  city,  as  in  the  time  when  the  Gauls  took 
possession  of  Rome.  He,  whom  they  esteemed  fearful  and 
pusillanimous  when  they  were,  as  they  thought,  in  a prosper, 
ous  condition,  was  now  the  only  man,  in  this  general  and 
unbounded  dejection  and  confusion,  who  showed  no  fear,  but 
walked  the  streets  with  an  assured  and  serene  countenance, 
addressed  his  fellow-citizens,  checked  the  women’s  lamenta- 
tions, and  the  public  gatherings  of  those  who  wanted  thus  to 
vent  their  sorrows.  He  caused  the  senate  to  meet,  he  heart- 
ened up  the  magistrates,  and  was  himself  as  the  soul  and  life 
of  every  office. 

He  placed  guards  at  the  gates  of  the  city  to  stop  the  frighted 
multitude  from  flying  : he  regulated  and  conflned  their  mourn- 
ings for  their  slain  frieiids,  both  as  to  time  and  place  ; ordering 
that  each  family  should  perform  such  observances  within 
private  walls,  and  that  they  should  continue  only  the  space  of 
one  month,  and  then  the  whole  city  should  be  purified.  The 
feast  of  Ceres  happening  to  fall  within  this  time,  it  was  decreed 
that  the  solemnity  should  be  intermitted,  lest  the  fewness,  and 
the  sorrowful  countenance  of  those  who  should  celebrate  it, 
might  too  much  expose  to  the  people  the  greatness  of  their 
loss  ; besides  that,  the  worship  most  acceptable  to  the  gods  is 
that  which  comes  from  cheerful  hearts.  But  those  rights 
which  were  proper  for  appeasing  their  anger,  and  procuring 
auspicious  signs  and  presages,  were  by  the  direction  of  the 
augurs  carefully  performed.  Fabius  Pictor,  a near  kinsman 
to  Maximus,  was  sent  to  consult  the  oracle  of  Delphi ; and 
about  the  same  time,  two  vestals  having  been  detected  to  have 
been  violated,  the  one  killed  herself,  and  the  other,  according 
to  custom,  was  buried  alive. 

Above  all,  let  us  admire  the  high  spirit  and  equanimity  of 
this  Roman  commonwealth  j that  when  the  consul  Varro 


FABIUS. 


289 


rame  beaten  and  flying  home,  full  of  shame  and  humiliation, 
after  he  had  so  disgracefully  and  calamitously  managed  their 
affairs,  yet  the  whole  senate  and  people  went  forth  to  meet 
him  at  the  gates  of  the  city,  and  received  him  with  honor  and 
respect.  And,  silence  being  commanded,  the  magistrates  and 
chief  of  the  senate,  Fabius  amongst  them,  commended  him 
before  the  people,  because  he  did  not  despair  of  the  safety  of 
the  commonwealth,  after  so  great  a loss,  but  was  come  to  take 
the  government  into  his  hands,  to  execute  the  laws,  and  aid 
his  fellow-citizens  in  their  prospect  of  future  deliverance. 

When  word  was  brought  to  Rome  that  Hannibal,  after  the 
fight,  had  marched  with  his  army  into  other  parts  of  Italy,  the 
hearts  of  the  Romans  began  to  revive,  and  they  proceeded  to 
send  out  generals  and  armies.  The  most  distinguished  com- 
mands were  held  by  Fabius  Maximus  and  Claudius  Marcellus, 
both  generals  of  great  fame,  though  upon  opposite  grounds. 
For  Marcellus,  as  we  have  set  forth  in  his  life,  was  a man  of 
action  and  high  spirit,  ready  and  bold  with  his  own  hand,  and, 
as  Homer  describes  his  warriors,  fierce,  and  delighting  in  fights. 
Boldness,  enterprise,  and  daring  to  match  those  of  Hannibal, 
constituted  his  tactics,  and  marked  his  engagements.  But 
Fabius  adhered  to  his  former  principles,  still  persuaded  that, 
by  following  close  and  not  fighting  him,  Hannibal  and  hm 
army  would  at  last  be  tired  out  and  consumed,  like  a wrestler 
in  too  high  condition,  whose  very  excess  of  strength  makes 
him  the  more  likely  suddenly  to  give  way  and  lose  it.  Posi- 
donius tells  us  that  the  Romans  called  Marcellus  their  sword, 
and  Fabius  their  buckler  ; and  that  the  vigor  of  the  one,  mixed 
with  the  steadiness  of  the  other,  made  a happy  compound  that 
proved  the  salvation  of  Rome.  So  that  Hannibal  found  by 
experience  that  encountering  the  one,  he  met  with  a rapid, 
impetuous  river,  which  drove  him  back,  and  still  made  some 
breach  upon  him  ; and  by  the  other,  though  silently  and  quietly 
passing  by  him,  he  was  insensibly  washed  away  and  consumed  ; 
and,  at  last,  was  brought  to  this,  that  he  dreaded  Marcellus 
when  he  was  in  motion,  and  Fabius  when  he  sat  still.  During 
the  whole  course  of  this  war,  he  had  still  to  do  with  one  or 
both  of  these  generals  ; for  each  of  them  was  five  times  consul, 
and,  as  prjetors  or  proconsuls  or  consuls,  they  had  always  a 
part  in  the  government  of  the  army,  till,  at  last,  Marcellus  fell 
into  the  trap  which  Hannibal  had  laid  for  him,  and  was  killed 
in  his  fifth  consulship.  But  all  his  craft  and  subtlety  were 
unsuccessful  upon  Fabius,  who  only  once  was  in  some  danger 
of  being  caught,  when  counterfeit  letters  came  to  him  from 

iQ 


2gO 


FABIUS. 


the  principal  inhabitants  of  Metapontum,  with  premises  to 
deliver  up  their  town  if  he  would  come  before  it  with  his  army, 
and  intimations  that  they  should  expect  him.  This  train  had 
almost  drawn  him  in  ; he  resolved  to  march  to  them  with  part 
of  his  army,  and  was  diverted  only  by  consulting  the  omens 
of  the  birds,  which  he  found  to  be  inauspicious ; and  not  long 
after  it  was  discovered  that  the  letters  had  been  forged  by 
Hannibal,  who,  for  his  reception,  had  laid  an  ambush  to 
entertain  him.  This,  perhaps,  we  must  rather  attribute  to  the 
favor  of  the  gods  than  to  the  prudence  of  Fabius. 

In  preserving  the  towns  and  allies  from  revolt  by  fair  and 
gentle  treatment,  and  in  not  using  rigor,  or  showing  a sus- 
picion upon  every  light  suggestion,  his  conduct  was  remark 
able.  It  is  told  of  him,  that  being  informed  of  a certain 
Marsian,  eminent  for  courage  and  good  birth,  who  had  been 
speaking  underhand  with  some  of  the  soldiers  about  deserting, 
Fabius  was  so  far  from  using  severity  against  him,  that  he 
called  for  him,  and  told  him  he  was  sensible  of  the  neglect 
that  had  been  shown  to  his  merit  and  good  service,  which,  he 
said,  was  a great  fault  in  the  commanders  who  reward  more 
by  favor  than  by  desert ; ‘‘  but  henceforth,  whenever  you  are 
aggrieved,’’  said  Fabius,  “ I shall  consider  it  your  fault,  if, you 
apply  yourself  to  any  one  but  to  me  ; ” and  when  he  had  so 
spoken,  he  bestowed  an  excellent  horse  and  other  presents 
upon  him ; and,  from  that  time  forwards,  there  was  not  a 
faithfuller  and  more  trusty  man  in  the  whole  army.  With 
good  reason  he  judged,  that,  if  those  who  have  the  government 
of  horses  and  dogs  endeavor  by  gentle  usage  to  cure  their 
angry  and  untractable  tempers,  rather  than  by  cruelty  and 
beating,  much  more  should  those  who  have  the  command  of 
men  try  to  bring  them  to  order  and  discipline  by  the  mildest 
and  fairest  means,  and  not  treat  them  worse  than  gardeners 
do  those  wild  plants,  which,  with  care  and  attention,  lose 
gradually  the  savageness  of  their  nature,  and  bear  excellent 
fruit. 

AJ:  another  time,  some  of  his  officers  informed  him  that 
tn/e  of  their  men  was  very  often  absent  from  his  place,  and 
out  at  nights  ; he  asked  them  what  kind  of  man  he  was  ; they 
all  answered,  that  the  whole  army  had  not  a better  man,  that 
he  was  a native  of  Lucania,  and  proceeded  to  speak  of  several 
actions  which  they  had  seen  him  perform.  Fabius  made 
strict  inquiry,  and  discovered  at  last  that  these  frequent  excur- 
sions which  he  ventured  upon  were  to  visit  a young  girl,  with 
whom  he  was  in  love.  Upon  which  he  gave  private  order  to 


FABTUS. 


291 


some  of  his  men  to  find  out  the  woman  and  secretly  convey 
her  into  his  own  tent ; and  then  sent  for  the  Lucanian,  and, 
calling  him  aside,  told  him,  that  he  very  well  knew  how  often 
he  had  been  out  away  from  the  camp  at  night,  which  was  a 
capital  transgression  against  military  discipline  and  the  Roman 
laws,  but  he  knew  also  how  brave  he  was,  and  the  good 
services  he  had  done  ; therefore,  in  consideration  of  them,  he 
was  willing  to  forgive  him  his  fault ; but  to  keep  him  in  good 
order,  he  was  resolved  to  place  one  over  him  to  be  his  keeper, 
who  should  be  accountable  for  his  good  behavior.  Having 
said  this,  he  produced  the  woman,  and  told  the  soldier,  terrified 
and  amazed  at  the  adventure,  ‘‘  This  is  the  person  who  mus^- 
answer  for  you  ; and  by  your  future  behavior  we  shall  see 
whether  your  night  rambles  were  on  account  of  love,  or  for  any 
other  worse  design.’’ 

Another  passage  there  was,  something  of  the  same  kind, 
which  gained  him  possession  of  Tarentum.  There  was  a 
young  Tarentine  in  the  army  that  had  a sister  in  Tarentum, 
then  in  possession  of  the  enemy,  who  entirely  loved  her 
brother,  and  wholly  depended  upon  him.  He,  being  informed 
that  a certain  Bruttian,  whom  Hannibal  had  made  a com- 
mander of  the  garrison,  was  deeply  in  love  with  his  sister, 
conceived  hopes  that  he  might  possibly  turn  it  to  the  advan- 
tage of  the  Romans.  And  having  first  communicated  his 
design  to  Fabius,  he  left  the  army  as  a deserter  in  show,  and 
went  over  to  Tarentum.  The  first  days  passed,  and  the 
Bruttian  abstained  from  visiting  the  sister  ; for  neither  of  them 
knew  that  the  brother  had  notice  of  the  amour  between  them. 
The  young  Tarentine,  however,  took  an  occasion  to  tell  his 
sister  how  he  had  heard  that  a man  of  station  and  authority 
had  made  his  addresses  to  her,  and  desired  her,  therefore,  to 
tell  him  who  it  was  ; “ for,”  said  he,  “ if  he  be  a man  that  has 
bravery  and  reputation,  it  matters  not  what  countryman  he  is, 
since  at  this  time  the  sword  mingles  all  nations,  and  makes 
them  equal ; compulsion  makes  all  things  honorable  ; and  in  a 
time  when  right  is  weak,  we  maybe  thankful  if  might  assumes 
a form  of  gentleness.”  Upon  this  the  woman  sends  for  her 
friend,  and  makes  the  brother  and  him  acquainted  ; and 
whereas  she  henceforth  showed  more  countenance  to  her  lover 
than  formerly,  in  the  same  degrees  that  her  kindness  increased 
his  friendship,  also,  with  the  brother  advanced.  So  that  at 
last  our  Tarentine  thought  this  Bruttian  officer  well  enough 
prepared  to  receive  the  offers  he  had  to  make  him ; and  that 
it  would  be  easy  for  a mercenary  man,  who  was  in  love,  to 


FABIUS. 


392 

accept,  upon  the  terms  proposed,  the  large  rewards  promised 
by  Fabius.  In  conclusion,  the  bargain  was  struck,  and  the 
promise  made  of  delivering  the  town.  This  is  the  common 
tradition,  though  some  relate  the  story  otherwise,  and  say, 
that  this  woman,  by  whom  the  Bruttian  was  inveigled  to  betray 
the  town,  was  not  a native  of  Tarentum,  but  a Bruttian  born, 
and  was  kept  by  Fabius  as  his  concubine  ; and  being  a 
countrywoman  and  an  acquaintance  of  the  Bruttian  governor^ 
he  priva^ly  sent  her  to  him  to  corrupt  him. 

Whilst  these  matters  were  thus  in  process,  to  draw  off 
Hannibal  from  scenting  the  design,  Fabius  sends  orders  to 
the  garrison  in  Rhegium,  that  they  should  waste  and  spoil 
the  Bruttian  country,  and  should  also  lay  seige  to  Caulonia, 
and  storm  the  place  with  all  their  might.  These  were  a body 
of  eight  thousand  men,  the  worst  of  the  Roman  army,  who 
had  most  of  them  been  runaways,  and  had  been  brought 
home  by  Marcellus  from  Sicily,  in  dishonor,  so  that  the  loss 
of  them  would  not  be  any  great  grief  to  the  Romans.  Fabius, 
therefore,  threw  out  these  men  as  a bait  for  Hannibal,  to  di- 
vert him  from  Tarentum  ; who  instantly  caught  at  it,  and  led 
his  forces  to  Caulonia ; in  the  mean  time,  Fabius  sat  down 
before  Tarentum.  On  the  sixth  day  of  the  siege,  the  young 
Tarentine  slips  by  night  out  of  the  town,  and,  having  carefully 
observed  the  place  where  the  Bruttian  commander,  according 
to  agreement,  was  to  admit  the  Romans,  gave  an  account  of 
the  whole  matter  to  Fabius ; who  thought  it  not  safe  to  rely 
wholly  upon  the  plot,  but,  while  proceeding  with  secrecy  to 
the  post,  gave  order  for  a general  assault  to  be  made  on  the 
other  side  of  the  town,  both  by  land  and  sea.  This  being 
accordingly  executed,  while  the  Tarentines  hurried  to  defend 
the  town  on  the  side  attacked,  Fabius  received  the  signal  from 
the  Bruttian,  scaled  the  walls,  and  entered  the  town  unop- 
posed. 

Here,  we  must  confess,  ambition  seems  to  have  overcome 
him.  To  make  it  appear  to  the  world  that  he  had  taken  Tar- 
entum by  force  and  his  own  prowess,  and  not  by  treachery^ 
he  commanded  his  men  to  kill  the  Bruttians  before  all  others  ; 
ye.  he  did  not  succeed  in  establishing  the  impression  he  de- 
sired, but  merely  gained  the  character  of  perfidy  and  cruelty. 
Many  of  the  Tarentines  were  also  killed,  and  thirty  thousand 
of  them  were  sold  for  slaves  ; the  army  had  the  plunder  of 
the  towm,  and  there  was  brought  into  the  treasury  three  thou- 
sand talents.  Whilst  they  w^ere  carrying  off  every  thing  else 
as  plunder,  the  officer  w4io  took  the  inventory  asked  whal 


FABIUS. 


293 

should  be  done  with  their  gods,  meaning  the  pictures  and 
statues  ; Fabius  answered,  ‘‘  Let  us  leave  their  angry  gods  to 
the  Tarentines.’’  Nevertheless,  he  removed  the  colossal 
statue  of  Hercules,  and  had  it  set  up  in  the  capitol,  with  one 
of  himself  on  horseback,  in  brass,  near  it ; proceedings  very 
different  from  those  of  Marcellus  on  a like  occasion,  and 
< which,  indeed,  very  much  set  off  in  the  eyes  of  the  world  his 
clemency  and  humanity,  as  appears  in  the  account  of  his 
life. 

Hannibal,  it  is  said,  was  within  five  miles  of  Tarentum, 
when  he  was  informed  that  the  town  was  taken.  He  said 
openly,  ‘‘  Rome  then  has  also  got  a Hannibal ; as  we  won 
Tarentum,  so  have  we  lost  it.^’  And,  in  private  with  some  of 
his  confidants,  he  told  them,  for  the  first  time,  that  he  always 
thought  it  difficult,  but  now  he  held  it  impossible,  with  the 
forces  he  then  had,  to  master  Italy. 

Upon  this  success,  Fabius  had  a triumph  decreed  him  at 
Rome,  much  more  splendid  than  his  first ; they  looked  upon 
him  now  as  a champion  who  had  learned  to  cope  with  his  an- 
tagonist, and  could  now  easily  foil  his  arts  and  prove  his  best 
skill  ineffectual.  And,  indeed,  the  army  of  Hannibal  was  at 
this  time  partly  worn  away  with  continual  action,  and  partly 
weakened  and  become  dissolute  with  overabundance  and  lux- 
ury. Marcus  Livius,  who  was  governor  of  Tarentum  when  it 
was  betrayed  to  Hannibal,  and  then  retired  into  the  citadel, 
which  he  kept  till  the  town  was  retaken,  was  annoyed  at  these 
honors  and  distinctions,  and,  on  one  occasion,  openly  declared 
in  the  senate,  that  by  his  resistance,  more  than  by  any  action 
of  Fabius,  Tarentum  had  been  recovered  ; on  which  Fabius 
laughingly  replied  : “You  say  very  true,  for  if  Marcus  Livius 
had  not  lost  Tarentum,  Fabius  Maximus  had  never  recovered 
it.’’  The  people,  amongst  other  marks  of  gratitude,  gave  his 
son  the  consulship  of  the  next  year ; shortly  after  whose  en- 
trance upon  his  office,  there  being  some  business  on  foot 
about  provision  for  the  war,  his  father,  either  by  reason  of  age 
and  infirmity,  or  perhaps  out  of  design  to  try  his  son,  came  up 
to  him  on  horseback.  While  he  was  still  at  a distance,  the 
young  consul  observed  it,  and  bade  one  of  his  lictors  com- 
mand his  father  to  alight,  and  tell  him  if  he  had  any  business 
with  the  consul,  he  should  come  on  foot.  The  standers  by 
seemed  offended  at  the  imperiousness  of  the  son  towards  a 
father  so  venerable  for  his  age  and  his  authority,  and  turned 
their  eyes  in  silence  towards  Fabius.  He,  however,  instantly 
alighted  from  his  horse,  and  with  open  arms  came  up,  almost 


294 


FABIUS. 


running,  and  embraced  his  son,  saying,  ^^Yes,  my  son,  you 
do  well,  and  understand  well  what  authority  you  have  re- 
ceived, and  over  whom  you  are  to  use  it.  This  was  the  way 
by  which  we  and  our  forefathers  advanced  the  dignity  of 
Rome,  preferring  ever  her  honor  and  service  to  our  own 
fathers  and  children.'* 

And,  in  fact,  it  is  told  that  the  great-grandfather  of  our 
Fabius,  who  was  undoubtedly  the  greatest  man  of  Rome  in 
his  time,  both  in  reputation  and  authority,  who  had  been  five 
times  consul,  and  had  been  honored  with  several  triumphs  for 
victories  obtained  by  him,  took  pleasure  in  serving  as  lieuten- 
ant under  his  own  son,  when  he  went  as  consul  to  his  com 
inand.  And  when  afterwards  his  son  had  a triumph  bestowed 
upon  him  for  his  good  service,  the  old  man  follow^ed,  on  horse- 
back, his  triumphant  chariot,  as  one  of  his  attendants  ; and 
made  it  his  glory,  that  while  he  really  was,  and  was  acknowl- 
edged to  be,  the  greatest  man  in  Rome,  and  held  a father’s 
full  power  over  his  son,  he  yet  submitted  himself  to  the  law^s 
and  the  magistrate. 

But  the  praises  of  our  Fabius  are  not  bounded  here.  He 
afterwards  lost  this  son,  and  was  remarkable  for  bearing  the 
loss  with  the  moderation  becoming  a pious  father  and  a wise 
man,  and  as  it  was  the  custom  amongst  the  Romans,  upon 
the  death  of  any  illustrious  person,  to  have  a funeral  oration 
recited  by  some  of  the  nearest  relations,  he  took  upon  himself 
that  office,  and  delivered  a speech  in  the  forum,  which  he 
committed  afterwards  to  writing. 

After  Cornelius  Scipio,  who  was  sent  into  Spain,  had 
driven  the  Carthaginians,  defeated  by  him  in  many  battles, 
out  of  the  country,  and  had  gained  over  to  Rome  many  towns 
and  nations  with  large  resources,  he  was  received  at  his  com- 
ing home  with  unexampled  joy  and  acclamation  of  the  peo- 
ple ; who,  to  show  their  gratitude,  elected  him  consul  for  the 
year  ensuing.  Knowing  what  high  expectation  they  had  of 
him,  he  thought  the  occupation  of  contesting  Italy  with  Han- 
nibal a mere  old  man’s  employment,  and  proposed  no  less  a 
task  to  himself  than  to  make  Carthage  the  seat  of  the  war,  fill 
Africa  with  arms  and  devastation,  and  so  oblige  Hannibal, 
instead  of  invading  the  countries  of  others,  to  draw  back  and 
defend  his  own.  And  to  this  end  he  proceeded  to  exert  all 
the  influence  he  had  with  the  people.  Fabius,  on  the  other 
side,  opposed  the  undertaking  with  all  his  might,  alarming 
the  city,  and  telling  them  that  nothing  but  the  temerity  of  a 
hot  young  man  could  inspire  them  with  such  dangerous  coun 


FABIUS. 


295 


sels,  and  sparing  no  means,  by  word  or  deed,  to  prevent  it. 
He  prevailed  with  the  senate  to  espouse  his  sentiments  ; but 
the  common  people  thought  that  he  envied  the  fame  of  Scipio, 
and  that  he  was  afraid  lest  this  young  conqueror  should 
achieve  some  great  and  noble  exploit,  and  have  the  glory,  per- 
haps, of  driving  Hannibal  out  of  Italy,  or  even  of  ending  the 
war,  which  had  for  so  many  years  continued  and  been  pro 
tracted  under  his  management. 

To  say  the  truth,  when  Fabius  first  opposed  this  project 
of  Scipio,  he  probably  did  it  out  of  caution  and  prudence,  in 
consideration  only  of  the  public  safety,  and  of  the  danger 
which  the  commonwealth  might  incur ; but  when  he  found 
Scipio  every  day  increasing  in  the  esteem  of  the  people,  ri- 
valry and  ambition  led  him  further,  and  made  him  violent  and 
personal  in  his  opposition.  For  he  even  applied  to  Crassus, 
the  colleague  of  Scipio,  and  urged  him  not  to  yield  the  com- 
mand to  Scipio,  but  that,  if  his  inclinations  were  for  it,  he 
should  himself  in  person  lead  the  army  to  Carthage.  He  also 
hindered  the  giving  money  to  Scipio  for  the  war  ; so  that  he 
was  forced  to  raise  it  upon  his  own  credit  and  interest  from 
the  cities  of  Etruria,  which  were  extremely  attached  to  him. 
On  the  other  side,  Crassus  would  not  stir  against  him,  nor 
remove  out  of  Italy,  being,  in  his  own  nature,  averse  to  all 
contention,  and  also  having,  by  his  office  of  high  priest,  relig- 
ious duties  to  retain  him.  Fabius,  therefore,  tried  other  ways 
to  oppose  the  design  ; he  impeded  the  levies,  and  he  declaimed, 
both  in  the  senate  and  to  the  people,  that  Scipio  was  not  only 
himself  flying  from  Hannibal,  but  was  also  endeavoring  to 
drain  Italy  of  all  its  forces,  and  to  spirit  away  the  youth  of 
the  country  to  a foreign  war,  leaving  behind  them  their  parents, 
wives,  and  children,  and  the  city  itself,  a defenceless  prey  to 
the  conquering  and  undefeated  enemy  at  their  doors.  With 
this  he  so  far  alarmed  the  people,  that  at  last  they  would 
only  allow  Scipio  for  the  war  the  legions  which  were  in  Sicily, 
and  three  hundred,  whom  he  particularly  trusted,  of  those 
men  who  had  served  with  hinf  in  Spain.  In  these  transac* 
tions,  Fabius  seems  to  have  followed  the  dictates  of  his  own 
wary  temper. 

But,  after  that  Scipio  was  gone  over  into  Africa,  when 
news  almost  immediately  came  to  Rome  of  wonderful  exploits 
and  victories,  of  which  the  fame  was  confirmed  by  the  spoils 
he  sent  home  ; of  a Numidian  king  taken  prisoner  ; of  a vast 
slaughter  of  their  men  ; of  two  camps  of  the  enemy  burnt  and 
destroyed,  and  in  them  a great  quantity  of  arms  and  horses  j 


296 


FABIUS. 


and  when,  hereupon,  the  Carthaginians  were  compelled  to 
send  envoys  to  Hannibal  to  call  him  home,  and  leave  his  idle 
hopes  in  Italy,  to  defend  Carthage ; when,  for  such  eminent 
and  transcending  services,  the  whole  people  of  Rome  cried 
up  and  extolled  the  actions  of  Scipio  ; even  then,  Fabius 
contended  that  a successor  should  be  sent  in  his  place,  alleg- 
ing for  it  only  the  old  reason  of  the  mutability  of  fortune,  as 
f she  would  be  weary  of  long  favoring  the  same  person. 
With  this  language  many  did  begin  to  feel  offended  ; it  seem- 
ed to  be  morosity  and  ill-will,  the  pusillanimity  of  old  age,  or 
a fear,  that  had  now  become  exaggerated,  of  the  skill  of  Han- 
nibal. Nay,  when  Hannibal  had  put  his  army  on  shipboard, 
and  taken  jhis  leave  of  Italy,  Fabius  still  could  not  forbear  to 
oppose  and  disturb  the  universal  joy  of  Rome,  expressing  his 
fears  and  apprehensions,  telling  them  that  the  commonwealth 
was  never  in  more  danger  than  now,  and  that  Hannibal  was  a 
more  formidable  enemy  under  the  walls  of  Carthage  than 
ever  he  had  been  in  Italy  ; that  it  would  be  fatal  to  Rome 
whenever  Scipio  should  encounter  his  victorious  army,  still 
warm  with  the  blood  of  so  many  Roman  generals,  dictators, 
and  consuls  slain.  And  the  people  were,  in  some  degree, 
startled  with  these  declamations,  and  were  brought  to  believe 
that  the  further  off  Hannibal  was,  the  nearer  was  their  dan- 
ger. Scipio,  however,  shortly  afterwards  fought  Hannibal, 
and  utterly  defeated  him,  humbled  the  pride  of  Carthage  be- 
neath his  feet,  gave  his  countrymen  joy  and  exultation  beyond 
all  their  hopes,  and 

Long  shaken  on  the  seas  restored  the  state.” 

Fabius  Maximus,  however,  did  not  live  to  see  the  pros- 
perous end  of  this  war,  and  the  final  overthrow  of  Hannibal, 
nor  to  rejoice  in  the  re-established  happiness  and  security  of 
the  commonwealth ; for  about  the  time  that  Hannibal  left 
Italy,  he  fell  sick  and  died.  At  Thebes,  Epaminondas  died 
so  poor  that  he  was  buried  at  the  public  charge  ; one  small 
iron  coin  was  all,  it  is  said,  that  was  found  in  his  house. 
Fabius  did  not  need  this,  but  the  people,  as  a mark  of  their 
affection,  defrayed  the  expenses  of  his  funeral  by  a private 
contribution  from  each  citizen  of  the  smallest  piece  of  coin  j 
thus  owning  him  their  common  father,  and  making  his  end  no 
less  honorable  than  his  life. 


PERICLES  AND  FABIUS. 


29? 


COMPARISON  OF  FABIUS  WITH 
PERICLES. 


We  have  here  had  two  lives  rich  in  examples,  both  of  ci  t/ll 
and  military  excellence.  Let  us  first  compare  the  two  men 
in  their  warlike  capacity.  Pericles  presided  in  his  common- 
wealth when  it  was  in  its  most  flourishing  and  opulent  condi- 
tion, great  and  growing  in  power  ; so  that  it  may  be  thought 
it  was  rather  the  common  success  and  fortune  that  kept  him 
from  any  fall  or  disaster.  But  the  task  of  Fabius,  who  under- 
took the  government  in  the  worst  and  most  difficult  times, 
was  not  to  preserve  and  maintain  the  well-established  felicity 
of  a prosperous  state,  but  to  raise  and  uphold  a sinking  and 
ruinous  commonwealth.  Besides,  the  victories  of  Cimon,  the 
trophies  of  Myronides  and  Leocrates,  with  the  many  famous 
exploits  of  Tolmides,  were  employed  by  Pericles  rather  to  fill 
the  city  with  festive  entertainments  and  solemnities  than  to 
enlarge  and  secure  its  empire.  Whereas  Fabius,  when  he 
took  upon  him  the  government,  had  the  frightful  object  before 
his  eyes  of  Roman  armies  destroyed,  of  their  generals  and 
consuls  slain,  of  lakes  and  plains  and  forests  strewed  wdth  the 
dead  bodies,  and  rivers  stained  with  the  blood  of  his  fellow- 
citizens  ; and  yet,  wuth  his  mature  and  solid  councils,  with  the 
firmness  of  his  resolution,  he,  as  it  were,  put  his  shoulder  to 
the  falling  commonwealth,  and  kept  it  up  from  foundering 
through  the  failings  and  weakness  of  others.  Perhaps  it  may 
be  more  easy  to  govern  a city  broken  and  tamed  with  calami- 
ties and  adversity,  and  compelled  by  danger  and  necessity  to  lis- 
ten to  w'isdom,  than  to  set  a bridle  on  wantonness  and  temerity, 
and  rule  a people  pampered  and  restive  with  long  prosperity 
&s  were  the  Athenians  when  Pericles  held  the  reins  of  govern- 
ment. But  then  again,  not  to  be  daunted  nor  discomposed 
with  the  vast  heap  of  calamities  under  which  the  people  of 
Rome  at  that  time  groaned  and  succumbed,  argues  a courage 
in  Fabius  and  a strength  of  purpose  more  than  ordinary. 

We  may  set  Tarentum  retaken  against  Samos  won  by  Peri- 
cles, and  the  conquest  of  Euboea  we  may  well  balance  with  the 
towns  of  Campania  ; though  Capua  itself  was  reduced  by  the 
consuls  Fulvius  and  Appius.  I do  not  find  that  Fabius  won 
any  set  battle  but  that  against  the  Ligurians,  for  which  he 


PERICLES  AND  FABIUS. 


298 

had  his  triumph  : whereas  Pericles  erected  nine  trophies  for 
as  many  victories  obtained  by  land  and  by  sea.  B it  no  ac- 
tion of  Pericles  can  be  compared  to  that  memorable  rescue 
of  Minucius,  when  Fabius  redeemed  both  him  and  his  army 
from  utter  destruction  ; a noble  act,  combining  the  highest 
valor,  wisdom,  and  humanity.  On  the  other  side,  it  does  not 
appear  that  Pericles  was  ever  so  overreached  as  Fabius  was  by 
I'lannibal  with  his  flaming  oxen.  His  enemy  there  had, 
without  his  agency,  put  himself  accidentally  into  his  power, 
yet  Fabius  let  him  slip  in  the  night,  and,  when  day  came,  was 
worsted  by  him,  was  anticipated  in  the  moment  of  success, 
and  mastered  by  his  prisoner.  If  it  is  the  part  of  a good 
general,  not  only  to  provide  for  the  present,  but  also  to  have 
a clear  foresight  of  things  to  come,  in  this  point  Pericles  is 
the  superior  ; for  he  admonished  the  Athenians,  and  told 
them  beforehand  the  ruin  the  war  would  bring  upon  them,  by 
their  grasping  more  than  they  were  able  to  manage.  But 
Fabius  was  not  so  good  a prophet,  when  he  denounced  to  the 
Romans  that  the  undertaking  of  Scipio  would  be  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  commonwealth.  So  that  Pericles  was  a good 
prophet  of  bad  success,  and  Fabius  was  a bad  prophet  of 
success  that  was  good.  And,  indeed,  to  lose  an  advantage 
through  diffidence  is  no  less  blamable  in  a general  than  to  fall 
into  danger  for  want  of  foresight ; for  both  these  faults, 
though  of  a contrary  nature,  spring  from  the  same  root,  want 
of  judgment  and  experience. 

As  for  their  civil  policy,  it  is  imputed  to  Pericles  that  he 
occasioned  the  war,  since  no  terms  of  peace,  offered  by  the 
Lacedsemonians,  would  content  him.  It  is  true,  I presume,  that 
Fabius,  also,  was  not  for  yielding  any  point  to  the  Cartha- 
ginians, but  was  ready  to  hazard  all,  rather  than  lessen  the 
empire  of  Rome.  The  mildness  of  Fabius  towards  his  col- 
league Minucius  does,  by  way  of  comparison,  rebuke  and 
condemn  the  exertions  of  Pericles  to  banish  Cimon  and  Thucy- 
dides, noble,  aristocratic  men,  who  by  his  means  suffered 
ostracisih.  The  authority  of  Pericles  in  Athens  was  much 
greater  than  that  of  Fabius  in  Rome.  Hence  it  was  more 
easy  for  him  to  prevent  miscarriages  arising  from  the  mistakes 
and  insufficiency  of  other  officers  ; only  Tolmides  broke  loose 
from  him,  and  contrary  to  his  persuasions,  unadvisedly  fought 
with  the  Boeotians,  and  was  slain.  The  greatness  of  his  in- 
fluence made  all  others  submit  and  conform  themselves  to 
his  judgment.  Whereas  Fabius,  sure  and  unerring  himself, 
for  want  of  that  general  power,  had  not  the  means  to  obviate 


ALCIBIADES  . 


299 

the  miscarriages  of  others  ; but  it  had  been  happy  for  the 
Romans  if  his  authority  had  been  greater,  for  so,  we  may  pre- 
sume, their  disasters  had  been  fewer. 

As  to  liberality  and  public  spirit,  Pericles  was  eminent  in 
never  taking  any  gifts,  and  Fabius,  for  giving  his  ovn  money 
to  ransom  his  soldiers,  though  the  sum  did  not  exceed  six 
talents.  Than  Pericles,  meantime,  no  man  had  ever  greater 
opportunities  to  enrich  himself,  having  had  presents  offered 
him  from  so  many  kings  and  princes  and  allies,  yet  no  man 
was  ever  more  free  from  corruption.  And  for  the  beauty  and 
magnificence  of  temples  and  public  edifices  with  which  he 
adorned  his  country,  it  must  be  confessed,  that  all  the  orna- 
ments and  structures  of  Rome,  to  the  time  of  the  Caesars,  had 
nothing  to  compare,  either  in  greatness  of  design  or  of  ex- 
pense, with  the  lustre  of  those  which  Pericles  only  erected  at 
Athens. 


ALCIBIADES. 

Alcibiades,  as  it  is  supposed,  was  anciently  descended 
from  Eurysaces,  the  son  of  Ajax,  by  his  father’s  side  ; and  by 
his  mother’s  side  from  Alcmaeon.  Dinomache,  his  mother, 
was  the  daughter  of  Megacles.  His  father,  Clinias,  having 
fitted  out  a galley  at  his  own  expense,  gained  great  honor  in 
the  sea-fight  at  Artemisinin,  and  was  afterwards  slain  in  the 
battle  of  Coronea,  fighting  against  the  Boeotians.  Pericles 
and  Ariphron,  the  sons  of  Xanthippus,  nearly  related  to  him, 
became  the  guardians  of  Alcibiades.  It  has  been  said  not 
untruly  that  the  friendship  which  Socrates  felt  for  him  has 
much  contributed  to  his  fame  ; and  certain  it  is,  that,  though 
we  have  no  account  from  any  writer  concerning  the  mother  of 
Nicias  or  Demosthenes,  of  Lamachus  or  Phormion,  of  Thras- 
} bulus  or  Theramenes,  notwithstanding  these  were  all  illustri- 
ous men  of  the  same  period,  yet  we  know  even  the  nurse  of 
Alcibiades,'that  her  country  was  Lacecteemon,  and  her  name 
Amycla ; and  that  Zopyrus  was  his  teacher  and  attendant ; the 
one  being  recorded  by  Antisthenes,  and  the  other  by  Plato. 

It  is  not,  perhaps,  material  to  say  any  thing  of  the  beauty 
of  Alcibiades,  only  that  it  bloomed  with  him  in  all  the,  ages  of 
his  life,  in  his  infancy,  in  his  youth,  and  in  his  manhood  ; 
and,  in  the  peculiar  character  becoming  to  each  of  these 


300 


ALCIBIADES. 


periods,  gave  him,  in  every  one  of  them,  a grace  and  a charm 
What  Euripides  says,  that 

**  Of  all  fair  things  the  autumn,  too,  is  fair,” 

is  by  no  means  universally  true.  But  it  happened  so  with 
Alcibiades,  amongst  few  others,  by  reason  of  his  happy  con* 
stitution  and  natural  vigor  of  body.  It  is  said  that  his  lisp- 
ing, when  he  spoke,  became  him  well,  and  gave  a grace  and 
persuasiveness  to  his  rapid  speech.  Aristophanes  takes  no- 
tice of  it  in  the  verses  in  which  he  jests  at  Theorus  ; ‘‘  How 

like  a colax  he  is/’  says  Alcibiades,  meaning  a corax;  on 
which  it  is  remarked, 

“ How  very  happily  he  lisped  the  truth.” 

Archippus  also  alludes  to  it  in  a passage  where  he  ridicules 
the  son  of  Alcibiades  : 

That  people  may  believe  him  like  his  father, 

He  walks  like  one  dissolved  in  luxury, 

Lets  his  robe  trail  behind  him  on  the  ground, 

C arelessly  leans  his  head,  and  in  his  talk 
Affects  to  lisp.” 

His  conduct  displayed  many  great  inconsistencies  - and 
variations,  not  unnaturally,  in  accordance  with  the  many  and 
wonderful  vicissitudes  of  his  fortunes  ; but  among  the  many 
strong  passions  of  his  real  character,  the  one  most  prevailing 
of  all  was  his  ambition  and  desire  of  superiority,  which  appears 
in  several  anecdotes  told  of  his  sayings  whilst  he  was  a child. 
Once  being  hard  pressed  in  wrestling,  and  fearing  to  be 
thrown,  he  got  the  hand  of  his  antagonist  to  his  mouth,  and 
bit  it  with  all  his  force  ; and  when  the  other  loosed  his  hold 
presently,  and  said,  “ You  bite,  Alcibiades,  like  a woman.” 
“No,”  replied  he,  “like  a lion.”  Another  time  as  he  pla}’ed 
at  dice  in  the  street,  being  then  but  a child,  a loaded  cart  came 
that  way,  when  it  was  his  turn  to  throw ; at  first  he  called  to 
the  driver  to  stop,  because  he  was  to  throw  in  the  way  over 
which  the  cart  was  to  pass  j but  the  man  giving  him  no  atten^ 
tion  and  driving  on,  when  the  rest  of  the  boys  divided  and 
gave  way,  Alcibiades  threw  himself  on  his  face  before  the  cart, 
and,  stretching  himself  out,  bade  the  carter  pass  on  now  if  he 
would  j which  so  startled  the  man,  that  he  put  back  his  horses, 
while  all  that  saw  it  were  terrified,  and,  crying  out,  ran  to 
assist  Alcibiades.  When  he  began  to  study,  he  obeyed  all  his 
other  masters  fairly  well,  but  refused  to  learn  upon  the  flute, 
as  a sordid  thing,  and  not  becoming  a free  citizen  \ saying, 


ALCIBIADES. 


301 


lhat  to  play  on  the  lute  or  the  harp  does  not  in  any  way 
disfigure  a man’s  body  or  face,  but  one  is  hardly  to  be  known 
by  the  most  intimate  friends,  when  playing  on  the  flute.  Be- 
sides, one  who  plays  on  the  harp  may  speak  or  sing  at  the  same 
time  ; but  the  use  of  the  flute  stops  the  mouth,  intercepts  the 
roice,  and  prevents  all  articulation.  “ Therefore,”  said  he, 
let  the  Theban  youths  pipe,  who  do  not  know  how  to  speak, 
but  we  Athenians,  as  our  ancestors  have  told  us,  have  Minerva 
for  our  patroness,  and  Apollo  for  our  protector,  one  of  whom 
threw  away  the  flute,  and  the  other  stripped  the  Flute-player 
of  his  skin.”  Thus,  between  raillery  and  good  earnest,  Alci- 
biades  kept  not  only  himself  but  others  from  learning,  as  it 
presently  became  the  talk  of  the  young  boys,  how  Alcibiades 
despised  playing  on  the  flute,  and  ridiculed  those  who  studied 
it.  In  consequence  of  which,  it  ceased  to  be  reckoned 
amongst  the  liberal  accomplishments,  and  became  generally 
neglected. 

It  is  stated  in  the  invective  which  Antiphon  wrote  against 
Alcibiades,  that  once,  when  he  was  a boy,  he  ran  away  to  the 
house  of  Democrates,  one  of  those  who  made  a favorite  of 
him,  and  that  Ariphron  had  determined  to  cause  proclamation 
to  be  made  for  him,  had  not  Pericles  diverted  him  from  it,  by 
saying,  that  if  he  were  dead,  the  proclaiming  of  him  could 
only  cause  it  to  be  discovered  one  day  sooner,  and  if  he  were 
safe,  it  would  be  a reproach  to  him  as  long  as  he  lived.  An- 
tiphon also  says,  that  he  killed  one  of  his  own  servants  with 
the  blow  of  a staff  in  Sibyrtius’s  wrestling  ground.  But  it  is 
unreasonable  to  give  credit  to  all  that  is  objected  by  an  enemy, 
who  makes  open  profession  of  his  design  to  defame  him. 

It  was  manifest  that  the  many  well-born  persons  who  were 
continually  seeking  his  company,  and  making  their  court  to 
him,  were  attracted  and  captivated  by  his  brilliant  and  ex- 
traordinary beauty  only.  But  the  affection  which  Socrates 
entertained  for  him  is  a great  evidence  of  the  natural  noble 
qualities  and  good  disposition  of  the  boy,  which  Socrates,  in- 
deed, detected  both  in  and  under  his  personal  beauty  ; and, 
fearing  that  his  wealth  and  station,  and  the  great  number  both 
of  strangers  and  Athenians  who  flattered  and  caressed  him, 
might  at  last  corrupt  him,  resolved,  if  possible,  to  interpose, 
and  preserve  so  hopeful  a plant  from  perishing  in  the  flower, 
before  its  fruit  came  to  perfection.  For  never  did  fortune  sur- 
round and  enclose  a man  with  so  many  of  those  things  which 
we  vulgarly  call  goods,  or  so  protect  him  from  every  weapon 
of  philosophy,  and  fence  him  from  every  access  of  free  and 


302 


ALCIBIADES. 


searching  words,  as  she  did  Alcibiades ; who,  from  the  begin- 
ning, was  exposed  to  the  flatteries  of  those  who  sought  merely 
his  gratification,  such  as  might  well  unnerve  him,  and  indis- 
pose him  to  listen  to  any  real  adviser  or  instructor.  Yet  such 
was  the  happiness  of  his  genius,  that  he  discerned  Socrates 
from  the  rest,  and  admitted  him,  whilst  he  drove  away  the 
wealthy  and  the  noble  who  made  court  to  him.  And,  in  a 
little  time,  they  grew  intimate,  and  Alcibiades,  listening  now 
to  language  entirely  free  from  every  thought  of  unmanly  fond- 
ness and  silly  displays  of  affection,  finding  himself  with  one 
who  sought  to  lay  open  to  him  the  deficiencies  of  his  mind, 
and  repress  his  vain  and  foolish  arrogance, 

**  Dropped  like  the  craven  cock  his  conquered  wing.” 

He  esteemed  these  endeavors  of  Socrates  as  most  truly  a 
means  which  the  gods  made  use  of  for  the  care  and  preserva- 
tion of  youth,  and  began  to  think  meanly  of  himself  and  to 
admire  him  ; to  be  pleased  with  his  kindness,  and  to  stand  in 
awe  of  his  virtue  ; and,  un wares  to  himself,  there  became  form- 
ed in  his  mind  that  reflex  image  and  reciprocation  of  Love, 
or  Anteros,  that  Plato  talks  of.  It  was  a matter  of  general 
wonder,  when  people  saw  him  joining  Socrates  in  his  meals 
and  his  exercises,  living  with  him  in  the  same  tent,  whilst  he 
was  reserved  and  rough  to  all  others  who  made  their  addresses 
to  him,  and  acted,  indeed,  with  great  insolence  to  some  of 
them.  As  in  particular  to  Anytus,  the  son  of  Anthemion,  one 
who  was  very  fond  of  him,  and  invited  him  to  an  entertainment 
which  he  had  prepared  for  some  strangers.  Alcibiades  refused 
the  invitation ; but,  having  drunk  to  excess  at  his  own  house 
with  some  of  his  companions,  went  thither  with  them  to  play 
some  frolic  j and,  standing  at  the  door  of  the  room  where  the 
guests  were  enjoying  themselves,  and  seeing  the  tables  covered 
with  gold  and  silver  cups,  he  commanded  his  servants  to  take 
away  the  one-half  of  them,  and  carry  them  to  his  own  house  ; 
an  i then,  disdaining  so  much  as  to  enter  into  the  room  himself, 
as  soon  as  he  had  done  this,  went  away.  The  company  was 
indignant,  and  exclaimed  at  his  rude  and  insulting  conduct ; 
Anytus,  however,  said,  on  the  contrary,  he  had  shown  great 
consideration  and  tenderness  in  taking  only  a part  when  he 
might  have  taken  all. 

He  behaved  in  the  same  manner  to  all  others  who  courted 
him  except  only  one  stranger,  who,  as  the  story  is  told,  having 
but  a small  estate,  sold  it  all  for  about  a hundred  staters 
which  he  presented  to  Alcibiades,  and  besougli' . him  to  accept 


ALCIBIADES. 


303 


Alcibiades,  smiling  and  well  pleased  at  the  thing,  invited  him 
to  supper,  and,  after  a very  kind  entertainment,  gave  him  his 
gold  again,  requiring  him,  moreover,  not  to  fail  to  be  present 
the  next  day,  when  the  public  revenue  was  offered  to  farm, 
and  to  outbid  all  others.  The  man  would  have  excused  him- 
self, because  the  contract  was  so  large,  and  would  cost  many 
talents , but  Alcibiades,  who  had  at  that  time  a private  pique 
against  the  existing  farmers  of  the  revenue,  threatened  to 
have  him  beaten  if  he  refused.  The  next  morning,  the  stran- 
ger, coming  to  the  market-place,  offered  a talent  more  than 
the  existing  rate ; upon  which  the  farmers,  enraged  and 
consulting  together,  called  upon  him  to  name  his  sureties, 
concluding  that  he  could  find  none.  The  poor  man,  being 
startled  at  the  proposal,  began  to  retire  ; but  Alcibiades, 
standing  at  a distance,  cried  out  to  the  magistrates,  ‘‘  Set  my 
name  down,  he  is  a friend  of  mine  ; I will  be  security  for  him.” 
When  the  other  bidders  heard  this,  they  perceived  that  all  their 
contrivance  was  defeated  ; for  their  way  was,  with  the  profits 
of  the  second  year  to  pay  the  rent  for  the  year  preceding ; so 
that,  not  seeing  any  other  way  to  extricate  themselves  out  of 
the  difficulty,  they  began  to  entreat  the  stranger,  and  offered 
him  a sum  of  money.  Alcibiades  would  not  suffer  him  to 
accept  of  less  than  a talent ; but  when  that  was  paid  down,  he 
commanded  him  to  relinquish  the  bargain,  having  by  this  de- 
vice relieved  his  necessity. 

Though  Socrates  had  many  and  powerful  rivals,  yet  the 
natural  good  qualities  of  Alcibiades  gave  his  affection  the 
mastery.  His  words  overcame  him  so  much,  as  to  draw  tears 
from  his  eyes,  and  to  disturb  his  very  soul.  Yet  sometimes 
he  would  abandon  himself  to  flatterers,  when  they  proposed 
to  him  varieties  of  pleasure,  and  would  desert  Socrates  ; who, 
then,  would  .pursue  him,  as  if  he  had  been  a fugitive  slave. 
He  despised  every  one  else,  and  had  no  reverence  or  awe  for 
anyone  but  him.  Cleanthes  the  philosopher,  speaking  of  one 
to  whom  he  was  attached,  says  his  only  hold  on  him  was  by 
his  ears,  while  his  rivals  had  all  the  others  offered  them  ; and 
there  is  no  question  that  Alcibiades  was  very  easily  caught  by 
pleasures;  and  the  expression  used  by  Thucydides  about  the 
excesses  of  his  habitual  course  of  living  gives  occasion  to  be- 
lieve so.  But  those  who  endeavored  to  corrupt  Alcibiades, 
took  advantage  chiefly  of  his  vanity  and  ambition,  and  thrust 
him  on  unseasonably  to  undertake  great  enterprises,  persuad- 
ing him,  that  as  soon  as  he  began  to  concern  himself  in  public 
affairs,  he  would  not  only  obscure  tlie  rest  of  the  generals  and 


304 


ALCIBIADES. 


statesmen,  but  outdo  the  authority  and  the  reputation  which 
Pericles  himself  had  gained  in  Greece.  But  in  the  same‘man- 
ner  as  iron  which  is  softened  by  the  fire  grows  hard  with  the 
cold,  and  all  its  parts  are  closed  again ; so,  as  often  as  Soc- 
rates observed  Alcibiades  to  be  misled  by  luxury  or  pride,  he 
reduced  and  corrected  him  by  his  addresses,  and  made  him 
humble  and  modest,  by  showing  him  in  how  many  things  he 
was  deficient,  and  how  very  far  from  perfection  in  virtue. 

When  he  was  past  his  childhood,  he  went  once  to  a grammar- 
school,  and  asked  the  master  for  one  of  Homer^s  books ; and 
he  making  answer  that  he  had  nothing  of  Homer’s,  Alcibiades 
gave  him  a blow  with  his  fist,  and  went  away.  Another  school- 
master telling  him  that  he  had  Homer  corrected  by  himself ; 

How  1 ” said  Alcibiades,  “ and  do  you  employ  your  time  in 
teaching  children  to  read  ? You,  who  are  able  to  amend 
Homer,  may  well  undertake  to  instruct  men.”  Being  once 
desirous  to  speak  with  Pericles,  he  went  to  his  house,  and  was 
told  there  that  he  was  not  at  leisure,  but  busied  in  considering 
how  to  give  up  his  accounts  to  the  Athenians  ; Alcibiades,  as 
he  went  away,  said,  “ It  were  better  for  him  to  consider  how 
he  might  avoid  giving  up  his  accounts  at  all.” 

Whilst  he  was  very  young,  he  was  a soldier  in  the  expedi- 
tion against  Potidaea,  where  Socrates  lodged  in  the  same  tent 
with  him,  and  stood  next  to  him  in  battle.  Once  there  hap- 
pened a sharp  skirmish,  in  which  they  both  behaved  with  signal 
bravery ; but  Alcibiades  receiving  a wound,  Socrates  threw 
himself  before  him  to  defend  him,  and  beyond  any  question 
saved  him  and  his  arms  from  the  enemy,  and  so  in  all  justice 
might  have  challenged  the  prize  of  valor.  But  the  generals 
appearing  eager  to  adjudge  the  honor  to  Alcibiades,  because 
of  his  rank,  Socrates,  who  desired  to  increase  his  thirst  after 
glory  of  a noble  kind,  was  the  first  to  give  evidence  for  him, 
and  pressed  them  to  crown  him,  and  to  decree  to  him  the 
complete  suit  of  armor.  Afterwards,  in  the  battle  of  Helium, 
when  the  Athenians  were  routed,  and  Socrates  with  a few 
others  was  retreating  on  foot,  Alcibiades,  who  was  on  horse- 
back, observing  it,  would  not  pass  on,  but  stayed  to  shelter 
him  from  the  danger,  and  brought  him  safe  off,  though  the 
enemy  pressed  hard  upon  them,  and  cut  off  many.  But  this 
happened  some  time  after. 

He  gave  a box  on  the  ear  to  Hipponicus,  the  father  of 
Callias,  whose  birth  and  wealth  made  him  a person  of  great 
influence  and  repute.  And  this  he  did  unprovoked  by  any 
passion  or  quarrel  between  them,  but  only  because,  in  a frolic, 


ALCIBIADES. 


305 


be  had  agreed  with  his  companions  to  do  it.  People  were  justly 
offended  at  this  insolence  when  it  became  known  through 
the  city ; but  early  the  next  morning,  Alcibiades  went  to  his 
house  and  knocked  at  the  door,  and  being  admitted  to  him, 
took  off  his  outer  garment,  and  presenting  his  naked  body, 
desired  him  to  scourge  and  chastise  him  as  he  pleased.  Upon 
this  Hipponicus  forgot  all  his  resentment,  and  not  only  par- 
doned him,  but  soon  after  gave  him  his  daughter  Hipparete 
in  marriage  Some  say  that  it  was  not  Hipponicus,  but  his 
son  Callias,  who  gave  Hipparete  to  Alcibiades,  together  with 
a portion  of  ten  talents,  and  that  after,  when  she  had  a child, 
Alcibiades  forced  him  to  give  ten  talents  more,  upon  pretence 
that  such  was  the  agreement  if  she  brought  him  any  children. 
Afterwards,  Callias,  for  fear  of  coming  to  his  death  by  his 
means,  declared,  in  a full  assembly  of  the  people,  that,  if  he 
should  happen  to  die  without  children,  the  state  should  inherit 
his  house  and  all  his  goods.  Hipparete  was  a virtuous  and 
dutiful  wife,  but,  at  last,  growing  impatient  of  the  outrages 
done  to  her  by  her  husband’s  continual  entertaining  of  court- 
esans, as  well  as  strangers  as  Athenians,  she  departed  frorn 
him  and  retired  to  her  brother’s  house.  Alcibiades  seemed 
not  at  all  concerned  at  this,  and  lived  on  still  in  the  same 
luxury ; but  the  law  requiring  that  she  should  deliver  to  the 
archon  in  person,  and  not  by  proxy,  the  instrument  by  which 
she  claimed  a divorce,  when,  in  obedience  to  the  law,  she 
presented  herself  before  him  to  perform  this,  Alcibiades  came 
in,  caught  her  up,  and  carried  her  home  through  the  market- 
place, no  one  daring  to  oppose  him  nor  to  take  her  from  him. 
She  continued  with  him  till  her  death,  which  happened  not 
long  after,  when  Alcibiades  had  gone  to  Ephesus.  Nor  is  this 
violence  to  be  thought  so  very  enormous  or  unmanly..  For 
the  law,  in  making  her  who  desires  to  be  divorced  appear  in 
public,  seems  to  design  to  give  her  husband  an  opportunity 
of  treating  with  her,  and  endeavoring  to  retain  her. 

Alcibiades  had  a dog  which  cost  him  seventy  minas,  and 
was  a very  large  one,  and  very  handsome.  His  tail,  which 
was  his  principal  ornament,  he  caused  to  be  cut  off,  and  his 
acquaintances  exclaiming  at  him  for  it,  and  telling  him  that  all 
Athens  was  sorry  for  the  dog,  aud  cried  out  upon  him  for  this 
action,  he  laughed,  and  said,  ‘‘Just  what  I wanted  has  hap- 
pened then.  I wished  tl  e Atlienians  to  talk  about  this,  that 
they  might  not  say  something  worse  of  me.” 

Jt  is  said  that  the  first  time  he  came  into  the  assembly 
was  upon  occasion  of  a largess  of  monc  y which  he  made  to 


3o6  alcibiades. 

the  people.  This  was  not  done  by  design,  but  as  he  passed 
along  he  heard  a shout,  and  inquiring  the  cause,  and  having 
learned  that  there  was  a donative  making  to  the  people,  he 
went  in  amongst  them  and  gave  money  also.  The  multitude 
thereupon  applauding  him,  and  shouting,  he  was  so  transport- 
ed at  it,  that  he  forgot  a quail  which  he  had  under  his  robe, 
and  the  bird,  being  frighted  with  the  noise,  flew  off ; upon 
which  the  people  made  louder  acclamations  than  before,  and 
many  of  them  started  up  to  pursue  the  bird  ; and  one  An- 
tiochus,  a pilot,  caught  it  and  restored  it  to  him,  for  which  he 
was  ever  after  a favorite  with  Alcibiades. 

He  had  great  advantages  for  entering  public  life  ; his 
noble  birth,  his  riches,  the  personal  courage  he  had  shown  in 
divers  battles,  and  the  multitude  of  his  friends  and  depend- 
ents, threw  open,  so  to  say,  folding  doors  for  his  admittance. 
But  he  did  not  consent  to  let  his  power  with  the  people  rest 
on  anything,  rather  than  on  his  own  gift  of  eloquence.  That 
he  was  a master  in  the  art  of  speaking,  the  comic  poets  bear 
him  witness  ; and  the  most  eloquent  of  public  speakers,  in 
his  oration  against  Midias,  allows  that  Alcibiades,  among 
other  perfections,  was  a most  accomplished  orator.  If,  how- 
ever, we  give  credit  to  Theophrastus,  who  of  all  philosophers 
was  the  most  curious  inquirer,  and  the  greatest  lover  of 
history,  we  are  to  understand  that  Alcibiades  had  the  highest 
capacity  for  inventing,  for  discerning  what  was  the  right  thing 
to  be  said  for  any  purpose,  and  on  any  occasion  j but  aiming 
not  only  at  saying  what  was  required,  but  also  at  saying  it 
well,  in  respect,  that  is,  of  words  and  phrases,  when  these  did 
not  readily  occur,  he  would  often  pause  in  the  middle  of  his 
discourse  for  want  of  the  apt  word,  and  would  be  silent  and 
stop  till  he  could  recollect  himself,  and  had  considered  what 
to  say. 

His  expenses  in  horses  kept  for  the  public  games,  and  in 
the  number  of  his  chariots,  were  matter  of  great  observation  ; 
never  did  any  one  but  he,  either  private  person  or  king,  send 
seven  charots  to  the  Olympic  games.  And  to  have  carried 
away  at  once  the  first,  the  second,  and  the  fourth  prize,  as 
Thucydides  says,  or  the  third,  as  Euripides  relates  it,  outdoes 
far  away  every  distinction  that  ever  was  known  or  thought  of 
in  that  kind.  Euripides  celebrates  his  success  in  this  man- 
ner : — 

— But  my  song  to  you, 

Son  of  Clinias,  is  due 

Victory  is  noble  ; how  much  more 

To  do  as  never  Greek  before  ; 


ALCIBIADES. 


3^7 

To  obtain  in  the  great  chariot  race 
The  first,  the  second,  and  third  place ; 

With  easy  step  advanced  to  fame. 

To  bid  the  herald  three  times  claim 
The  olive  for  one  victor’s  name.” 

The  emulation  displayed  by  the  deputations  of  various  states 
in  the  presents  which  they  made  to  him,  rendered  this  sue 
cess  yet  more  illustrious.  The  Ephesians  erected  a tent  fot 
him,  adorned  magnificently  ; the  city  of  Chios  furnished  him 
with  provender  for  his  horses  and  with  great  numbers  of  beasts 
for  sacrifice  ; and  the  Lesbians  sent  him  wine  and  other  pro- 
visions for  the  many  great  entertainments  which  he  made. 
Yet  in  the  midst  of  all  this  he  escaped  not  without  censure, 
occasioned  either  by  the  ill-nature  of  his  enemies  or  by  Lis 
own  misconduct.  For  it  is  said,  that  one  Diomedes,  an  Athe- 
nian, a worthy  man  and  a friend  to  Alcibiades,  passionately 
desiring  to  obtain  the  victory  at  the  Olympic  games,  and 
having  heard  much  of  a chariot  which  belong  to  the  state  at 
Argos,  where  he  knew  that  Alcibiades  had  great  power  and 
many  friends,  prevailed  with  him  to  undertake  to  buy  the 
chariot.  Alcibiades  did  indeed  buy  it,  but  then  claimed  it  for 
his  own,  leaving  Diomedes  to  rage  at  him,  and  to  call  upon 
the  gods  and  men  to  bear  witness  to  the  injustice.  It  would 
seem  there  was  a suit  at  law  commenced  upon  this  occasion, 
and  there  is  yet  extant  an  oration  concerning  the  chariot, 
written  by  Isocrates  in  defence  of  the  son  of  Alcibiades.  But 
the  plaintiff  in  this  action  is  named  Tisias,  and  not  Diomedes. 

As  soon  as  he  began  to  intermeddle  in  the  government, 
which  was  when  he  was  very  young,  he  quickly  lessened  the 
credit  of  all  who  aspired  to  the  confidence  of  the  people,  except 
Phaeax,  the  son  of  Erasi stratus,  and  Nicias,  the  son  of  Nicera- 
tus,  who  alone  could  contest  it  with  him.  Nicias  was  arrived 
at  a mature  age,  and  was  esteemed  their  first  general.  Phaeax 
was  but  a rising  statesmen  like  Alcibiades  ; he  was  descended 
from  noble  ancestors,  but  was  his  inferior,  as  in  many  other 
things,  so,  principally,  in  eloquence.  He  possessed  rather 
the  art  of  persuading  in  private  conversation  than  of  debate 
before  the  people,  and  was,  as  Eupolis  said  of  him, 

“ The  best  of  talkers,  and  of  speakers  worst.’' 

There  is  extant  an  oration  written  by  Phaeax  against  Alcibiades, 
in  which,  amongst  other  things,  it  is  said,  that  Alcibiades  made 
daiiy  use  at  his  table  of  many  gold  and  silver  vessels,  which 
belonged  to  the  commonwealth,  as  if  they  had  been  his  own, 
There  was  a certain  llyperbolus,  of  the  township  of  Peri 


3o8 


ALCIBIADES. 


thoedae,  whom  Thucydides  also  speaks  of  as  a man  of  bad 
character,  a general  butt  for  the  mockery  of  all  the  comic 
writers  of  the  time,  but  quite  unconcerned  at  the  worst  things 
they  could  say,  and,  being  careless  of  glory,  also  insensible 
of  shame;  a temper  which  some  people  call  boldness  and 
courage,  whereas  it  is  indeed  impudence  and  recklessness. 
He  was  liked  by  nobody,  yet  the  people  made  frequent  use  of 
him,  when  they  had  a mind  to  -disgrace  or  calumniate  any 
persons  in  authority.  At  this  time,  the  people,  by  his  persua- 
sions, were  ready  to  proceed  to  pronounce  the  sentence  of 
ten  years’  banishment,  called  ostracism.  This  they  made  use 
of  to  humiliate  and  drive  out  of  the  city  such  citizens  as  out- 
did the  rest  in  credit  and  power,  indulging  not  so  much  per- 
haps their  apprehensions  as  their  jealousies  in'  this  way. 
And  when,  at  this  time,  there  was  no  doubt  but  that  the 
ostracism  would  fall  upon  one  of  those  three,  Alcibiades  con- 
trived to  form  a coalition  of  parties,  and,  communicating  his 
project  to  Nicias,  turned  the  sentence  upon  Hyperbolus  him- 
self. Others  say,  that  it  was  not  with  Nicias,  but  Phseax,  that 
he  consulted,  and  by  help  of  his  party,  procured  the  banish- 
ment of  Hyperbolus,  when  he  suspected  nothing  less.  For, 
before  that  time,  no  mean  or  obscure  person  had  ever  fallen 
under  that  punishment,  so  that  Plato,  the  comic  poet,  speaking 
of  Hyperbolus,  might  well  say. 

The  man  deserved  the  fate ; deny 't  who  can  ? 

Yes,  but  the  fate  did  not  deserve  the  man; 

Not  for  the  like  of  him  and  his  slave-brands 

Did  Athens  put  the  sherd  into  our  hands.” 

But  we  have  given  elsewhere  a fuller  statement  of  what  is 
known  to  us  of  the  matter. 

Alcibiades  was  not  less  disturbed  at  the  distinctions  which 
Nicias  gained  amongst  the  enemies  of  Athens  than  at  the 
honors  which  the  Athenians  themselves  paid  to  him.  For 
though  Alcibiades  was  the  proper  appointed  person  to  receive 
all  Lacedaemonians  when  they  came  to  Athens,  and  had  taken 
particular  care  of  those  that  were  made  prisoners  at  Pylos, 
yet,  after  they  had  obtained  the  peace  and  restitution  of  the 
captiVes,  by  the  procurement  chiefly  of  Nicias,  they  paid  him 
very  special  attentions.  And  it  was  commonly  said  in  Greece, 
that  the  war  was  begun  by  Pericles,  and  that  Nicias  made  an 
end  of  it,  and  the  peace  was  generally  called  the  peace  of 
Nicias.  Alcibiades  was  extremely  annoyed  at  this,  and  being 
full  of  envy,  set  himself  to  break  the  league.  First  therefore, 
observing  tJiat  the  Argives,  as  well  out  of  fear  as  hatred  to 


ALCIBIADES. 


309 


the  Lacedaemonians,  sought  for  protection  against  them,  he 
gave  them  a secret  assurance  of  alliance  with  Athens.  And 
communicating,  as  well  in  person  as  by  letters,  with  the 
chief  advisers  of  the  people  there,  he  encouraged  them  not  to 
fear  the  Lacedaemonians,  nor  make  concessions  to  them,  but 
to  wait  a little,  and  keep  their  eyes  on  the  Athenians,  who. 
already,  were  all  but  sorry  they  had  made  peace,  and  would 
soon  give  it  up.  And  afterwards,  when  the  Lacedaemonians 
had  made  a league  with  the  Boeotians,  and  had  not  delivered 
up  Panactum  entire,  as  they  ought  to  have  done  by  the  treaty, 
but  only  after  first  destroying  it,  which  gave  great  offence  to 
the  people  of  Athens,  Alcibiades  laid  hold  of  that  opportunity 
to  exasperate  them  more  highly.  He  exclaimed  fiercely 
against  Nicias,  and  accused  him  of  many  things,  which  seemed 
probable  enough  : as  that,  when  he  was  general,  he  made  no 
attempt  himself  to  capture  their  enemies  that  were  shut  up  in 
the  isle  of  Sphacteria,  but,  when  they  were  afterwards  made 
prisoners  by  others,  he  procured  their  release  and  sent  them 
back  to  the  Lacedaemonians,  only  to  get  favor  with  them  ; 
that  he  would  not  make  use  of  his  credit  with  them,  to  prevent 
their  entering  into  this  confederacy  with  the  Boeotians  and 
Corinthians,  and  yet,  on  the  other  side,  that  he  sought  to 
stand  in  the  way  of  those  Greeks  who  were  inclined  to  make 
an  alliance  and  friendship  with  Athens,  if  the  Lacedaemonians 
did  not  like  it. 

It  happened,  at  the  very  time  when  Nicias  was  by  these 
arts  brought  into  disgrace  with  the  people,  that  ambassadors 
arrived  from  Lacedaemon,  who,  at  their  first  coming,  said  what 
seemed  very  satisfactory,  declaring  that  they  had  full  powers 
to  arrange  all  matters  in  dispute  upon  fair  and  equal  terms. 
The  council  received  their  propositions,  and  the  people  was 
to  assemble  on  the  morrow  to  give  them  audience.  Alcibiades 
grew  very  apprehensive  of  this,  and  contrived  to  gain  a secret 
conference  with  the  ambassadors.  When  they  were  met,  he 
said  : “ What  is  it  you  intend,  you  men  of  Sparta  ? Can  you 
be  ignorant  that  the  council  always  act  with  moderation  and 
respect  towards  ambassadors,  but  that  the  people  are  full  of 
ambition  and  great  desings  ? So  that,  if  you  let  them  know ' 
what  full  powers  your  commission  gives  you,  they  will  urge 
and  press  you  to  unreasonable  conditions.  Quit,  therefore, 
this  indiscreet  simplicity,  if  you  expect  to  obtain  equal  terms 
from  the  Athenians,  and  would  not  have  things  extorted  from 
you  contrary  to  your  inclinations,  and  begin  to  treat  with  the 
people  upon  some  reasonable  articles,  not  avowing  yourselvet 


ALCIBIADES. 


3to 

plenipotentiaries  ; and  I will  be  ready  to  assist  vou^  out  ol 
good-will  to  the  Lacedaemonians.’’  When  he  had  said  thus, 
he  gave  them  his  oath  for  the  performance  of  what  he  prom- 
ised, and  by  this  way  drew  them  from  Nicias  to  rely  entirely 
upon  himself,  and  left  them  full  of  admiration  of  the  dis- 
cernment and  sagacity  they  had  seen  in  him.  The  next  day, 
when  the  people  were  assembled  and  the  ambassadors  intro- 
duced, Alcibiades,  with  great  apparent  courtesy,  demanded  of 
them,  With  what  powers  they  were  come  ? They  made  an 
swer  that  they  were  not  corne  as  plenipotentiaries. 

Instantly  upon  that,  Alcibiades,  with  a loud  voice,  as 
though  he  had  received  and  not  done  the  wrong,  began  to  call 
them  dishonest  prevaricators,  and  to  urge  that  such  men  could 
not  possibly  come  with  a purpose  to  say  or  do  any  thing  that 
was  sincere.  The  council  was  incensed,  the  people  were  in  a 
rage,  and  Nicias,  who  knew  nothing  of  the  deceit  and  the 
imposture,  was  in  the  greatest  confusion,  equally  surprised 
and  ashamed  at  such  a change  in  the  men.  So  thus  the  La- 
cedaemonian ambassadors  were  utterly  rejected,  and  Alcibi- 
ades was  declared  general,  who  presently  united  the  Argives, 
the  Eleans,  and  the  people  of  Mantinea,  into  a confederacy 
with  the  Athenians. 

No  man  commended  the  method  by  which  Alcibiades  ef 
fected  all  this,  yet  it  was  a great  political  feat  'thus  to  divide 
and  shake  almost  all  Peloponnesus,  and  to  combine  so  many 
men  in  arms  against  the  Lacedaemonians  in  one  day  before 
Mantinea  ; and,  moreover,  to  remove  the  war  and  the  danger 
so  far  from  the  frontier  of  the  Athenians,  that  even  success 
would  profit  the  enemy  but  little,  should  they  be  conquerors, 
whereas,  if  they  were  defeated,  Sparta  itself  was  hardly  safe. 

After  this  battle  at  Matinea,  the  select  thousand  of  the  army 
of  the  Argives  attempted  to  overthrow  the  government  of  the 
people  in  Argos,  and  make  themselves  masters  of  the  city  3 and 
the  Lacedaemonians  came  to  their  aid  and  abolished  the  democ- 
racv.  But  the  people  took  arms  again,  and  gained  the  advan- 
tage, and  Alcibiades  came  in  to  their  aid  and  completed  the 
victory,  and  persuaded  them  to  build  long  walls,  and  by  that 
means  to  join  their  city  to  the  sea,  and  so  to  bring  it  wholly 
within  the  reach  of  the  Athenian  power.  To  this  purpose  he 
procured  them  builders  and  masons  from  Athens,  and  dis- 
played the  greatest  zeal  for  their  service,  and  gained  no  less 
honor  and  power  to  himself  than  to  the  commonwealth  of 
Athens.  He  also  persuaded  the  people  of  Patrae  to  join  their 
city  to  the  sea,  by  building  long  walls ; and  when  some  one 


ALCIBIADES. 


311 

told  them,  by  way  of  warning,  that  the  Athenians  would  swal- 
low them  up  at  last,  Alcibiades  made  answer,  “ Possibly  it 
may  be  so,  but  it  will  be  by  little  and  little,  and  beginning  at 
the  feet,  whereas  the  Lacedaemonians  will  begin  at  the  head 
and  devour  you  all  at  once.’’  Nor  did  he  neglect  either  to 
advise  the  Athenians  to  look  to  their  interests  by  land,  and 
often  put  the  young  men  in  mind  of  the  oath  which  they  had 
made  at  Agraulos,  to  the  effect  that  they  would  account  wheat 
and  barley,  and  vines  and  olives,  to  be  the  limits  of  Attica  ; 
by  which  they  were  taught  to  claim  a title  to  all  land  that  was 
cultivated  and  productive. 

But  with  all  these  words  and  deeds,  and  with  all  this  sa- 
gacity and  eloquence,  he  intermingled  exorbitant  luxury  and 
wantonness,  in  his  eating  and  drinking  and  dissolute  living  j 
wore  long  purple  robes  like  a woman,  whjch  dragged  after 
him  as  he  went  through  the  market-place ; caused  the  planks 
of  his  galley  to  be  cut  away,  that  so  he  might  lie  the  softer,  his 
bed  not  being  placed  on  the  boards,  but  hanging  upon  girths. 
His  shield,  again,  which  was  richly  gilded,  had  not  the  usual 
ensigns  of  the  Athenians,  but  a Cupid,  holding  a thunderbolt 
in  his  hand,  was  painted  upon  it.  The  sight  of  all  this  made  the 
people  of  good  repute  in  the  city  feel  disgust  and  abhorrence, 
and  apprehension  also,  at  his  free  living,  and  his  contempt  of 
law,  as  things  monstrous  in  themselves,  and  indicating  designs 
of  usurpation.  Aristophanes  has  well  expressed  the  people’s 
feeling  towards  him  : — 

“ They  love,  and  hate,  and  cannot  do  without  him.’^ 

And  still  more  strongly,  under  a figurative  expression, 

“ Best  rear  no  lion  in  your  state,  ^tis  true ; 

But  treat  him  like  a lion  if  you  do.” 

''J'he  truth  is,  his  liberalities,  his  public  shows,  and  other  mu- 
ni licence  to  the  people,  which  were  such  as  nothing  could  ex- 
ceed, the  glory  of  his  ancestors,  the  force  of  his  eloquence, 
the  grace  of  his  person,  his  strength  of  body,  joined  with  his 
great  courage  and  knowledge  in  military  affairs,  prevailed  upon 
the  Athenians  to  endure  patiently  his  excesses,  to  indulge 
many  things  to  him,  and,  according  to  their  habit,  to  give  the 
softest  names  to  his  faults,  attributing  them  to  youth  and  good 
nature.  As,  for  example,  he  kept  Agatharcus,  the  painter,  a 
prisoner  till  he  had  painted  his  whole  house,  but  then  dis- 
missed him  with  a reward.  Pie  publicly  struck  Taureas,  who 
exhibited  certain  shows  in  opposition  to  him  and  contended 
with  him  for  the  prize.  He  selected  for  himself  one  of  ths 


312 


ALCIBIADES. 


captive  Melian  women,  and  had  a son  by  her,  whom  he  took 
care  to  educate.  This  the  Athenians  styled  great  humanity 
and  yet  he  was  the  principal  cause  of  the  slaughter  of  all  the 
inhabitants  of  the  isle  of  Melos  who  were  of  age  to  bear  arms, 
having  spoken  in  favor  of  that  decree.  When  Aristophon, 
the  painter,  had  drawn  Nemea  sitting  and  holding  Alcibiades 
in  her  arms,  the  multitude  seemed  pleased  with  the  piece,  and 
thronged  to  see  it,  but  older  people  disliked  and  disrelished 
it,  and  looked  on  these  things  as  enormities,  and  movements 
towards  tyranny.  So  that  it  was  not  said  amiss  by  Ar- 
chestratus,  that  Greece  could  not  support  a second  Alcibi- 
ades. Once,  when  Alcibiades  succeeded  well  in  an  oration 
which  he  made,  and  the  whole  assembly  attended  upon  him  to 
do  him  honor,  Timon  the  misanthrope  did  not  pass  slightly  by 
him,  nor  avoid  him,  as  did  others,  but  purposely  met  him  and 
taking  him  by  the  hand,  said,  Go  on  boldly,  my  son,  and  in- 
crease in  credit  with  the  people,  for  thou  wilt  one  day  bring 
them  calamities  enough.”  Some  that  were  present  laughed 
at  the  saying,  and  some  reviled  Timon  ; but  there  were  others 
upon  whom  it  made  a deep  impression  ; so  various  was  the 
judgment  which  was  made  of  him,  and  so  irregular  his  own 
character. 

The  Athenians,  even  in  the  lifetime  of  Pericles,  had  al- 
ready cast  a longing  eye  upon  Sicily  ; but  did  not  attempt 
any  thing  till  after  his  death.  Then,  under  pretence  of  aiding 
their  confederates,  they  sent  succors  upon  all  occasions  to 
those  who  were  oppressed  by  the  Syracusans,  preparing  the 
way  for  sending  over  a greater  force.  But  Alcibiades  was  the 
person  who  inflamed  this  desire  of  theirs  to  the  height,  and 
prevailed  with  them  no  longer  to  proceed  secretly,  and  by 
little  and  little,  in  their  design,  but  to  sail  out  with  a great 
fleet,  and  undertake  at  once  to  make  themselves  masters  of 
the  island.  He  possessed  the  people  with  great  hopes,  and 
he  himself  entertained  yet  greater  ; and  the  conquest  of  Sici- 
ly, which  was  the  utmost  bound  of  their  ambition,  was  but 
the  mere  outset  of  his  expectation.  Nicias  endeavored  to 
divert  the  people  from  the  expedition,  by  representing  to  them 
that  the  taking  of  S3Tacuse  would  be  a work  of  great  diflicul- 
ty  ; but  Alcibiades  dreamed  of  nothing  less  than  the  conquest 
of  Catharge  and  Libya,  and  by  the  accession  of  these  con- 
ceiving himself  at  once  made  master  of  Italy  and  Peloponne- 
sus, seemed  to  look  upon  Sicily  as  little  more  than  a magazine 
for  the  war.  The  young  men  were  soon  elevated  with  these 
hopes,  and  listened  gladly  to  those  of  riper  years,  who  talked 


ALCIKIADES. 


3^3 


wonders  of  the  countries  they  were  going  to  ; so  that  you 
might  see  great  numbers  sitting  in  the  wrestling  grounds  and 
public  places,  drawing  on  the  ground  the  figure  of  the  island 
and  the  situation  of  Libya  and  Carthage.  Socrates  the  phi- 
losopher and  Meton  the  astrologer  are  said,  however,  never 
to  have  hoped  for  any  good  to  the  commonwealth  from  this 
war  ; the  one,  it  is  to  be  supposed,  presaging  what  would  en- 
sue, by  the  intervention  of  his  attendant  Genius  ; and  the 
other,  either  upon  rational  consideration  of  the  project  or  by 
use  of  the  art  of  divination,  conceived  fears  for  its  issue,  and, 
feigning  madness,  caught  up  a burning  torch,  and  seemed  as 
if  he  would  have  set  his  own  house  on  fire.  Others  report, 
that  he  did  not  take  upon  him  to  act  the  madman,  but  secret- 
ly in  the  night  set  his  house  on  fire,  and  the  next  morning  be- 
sought the  people,  that  for  his  comfort,  after  such  a calamity, 
they  would  spare  his  son  from  the  expedition.  By  which  ar- 
tifice, he  deceived  his  fellow-citizens,  and  obtained  of  them 
what  he  desired. 

Together  with  Alcibiades,  Nicias,  much  against  his  will, 
was  appointed  general : and  he  endeavored  to  avoid  the 
command,  not  the  less  on  account  of  his  colleague.  But 
the  Athenians  thought  the  war  would  proceed  more  prosper- 
ously, if  they  did  not  send  Alcibiades  free  from  all  restraint, 
but  tempered  his  heat  with  the  caution  of  Nicias.  This  they 
chose  the  rather  to  do,  because  Lamachus,  the  third  general, 
though  he  was  of  mature  years,  yet  in  several  battles  had  ap- 
peared no  less  hot  and  rash  than  Alcibiades  himself.  When 
they  began  to  deliberate  of  the  number  of  forces,  and  of  the 
manner  of  making  the  necessary  provisions,  Nicias  made 
another  attempt  to  oppose  the  design,  and  to  prevent  the 
war ; but  Alcibiades  contradicted  him,  and  carried  his  point 
with  the  people.  And  one  Demostratus,  an  orator,  propos- 
ing to  give  the  generals  absolute  power  over  the  preparations 
and  the  whole  management  of  the  war,  it  was  presently  de- 
creed so.  When  all  things  were  fitted  for  the  voyage,  many 
unlucky  omens  appeared.  At  that  very  time  the  feast  of 
\donis  happened  in  which  the  women  were  used  to  expose, 
in  all  parts  of  the  city,  images  resembling  dead  men  carried 
out  to  their  burial,  and  to  represent  funeral  solemnities  by  la- 
mentations and  mournful  songs.  The  mutilation,  however,  of 
the  images  of  Mercury,  most  of  which,  in  one  night,  had  their 
faces  all  disfigured,  terrified  many  persons  who  were  wont  to 
despise  most  things  of  that  nature.  It  was  given  out  that  it  was 
done  by  the  Corinthians,  for  the  sake  of  the  Syracusans,  who 


ALCIBIADES. 


3H 

were  their  colony,  in  hopes  that  the  Athenians,  by  such  prodi- 
gies, might  be  induced  to  delay  or  abandon  the  war.  But  the  re- 
port gained  no  credit  with  the  people,  nor  yet  the  opinion  of 
those  who  would  not  believe  that  there  was  anything  ominous  in 
the  matter,  but  that  it  was  only  an  extravagant  action,  commit- 
ted, in  that  sort  of  sport  which  runs  into  license,  by  wild  young 
men  coming  from  a debauch.  Alike  enraged  and  terrified  at 
the  thing,  looking  upon  it  to  proceed  from  a conspiracy  of  per- 
sons who  designed  some  commotions  in  the  state,  the  council, 
as  well  as  the  assembly  of  the  people,  which  was  held  fre- 
quently in  a few  days’  space,  examined  diligently  every  thing 
that  might  administer  ground  for  suspicion.  During  this  ex- 
amination, Androcles,  one  of  the  demagogues,  j^roduced  cer- 
tain slaves  and  strangers  before  them,  who  accused  Alcibiades 
and' some  of  his  friends  of  defacing  other  images  in  the  same 
manner,  and  of  having  profanely  acted  the  sacred  mysteries 
at  a drunken  meeting,  where  one  Theodorus  represented  the 
herald,  Polytion  the  torch-bearer,  and  Alcibiades  the  chief 
priest,  while  the  rest  of  the  party  appeared  as  candidates  for 
initiation,  and  received  the  title  of  Initiates.  These  were  the 
matters  contained  in  the  articles  of  information,  which  Thes 
salus,  the  son  of  Cimon,  exhibited  against  Alcibiades,  for  his 
impious  mockery  of  the  goddesses,  Ceres  and  Proserpine. 
The  people  were  highly  exasperated  and  incensed  against 
Alcibiades  upon  this  accusation,  which  being  aggravated  by 
Androcles,  the  most  malicious  of  all  his  enemies,  at  first  dis 
turbed  his  friends  exceedingly.  But  when  they  perceived 
that  all  the  seamen  designed  for  Sicily  were  for  him,  and  the 
soldiers  also,  and  when  the  Argive  and  Mantinean  auxiliaries, 
a thousand  men  at  arms,  openly  declared  that  they  had  un- 
dertaken this  distant  maritime  expedition  for  the  sake  of 
Alcibiades,  and  that,  if  he  was  ill  used,  they  would  all  go 
home,  they  recovered  their  courage,  and  became  eager  to 
make  use  of  the  present  opportunity  for  justifying  him.  At 
this  his  enemies  were  again  discouraged,  fearing  lest  the 
people  should  be  more  gentle  to  him  in  their  sentence,  be- 
cause of  the  occasion  they  had  for  his  service.  Therefore,  to 
obviate  this,  they  contrived  that  some  other  orators,  who  did 
not  appear  to  be  enemies  to  Alcibiades,  but  really  hated  him 
no  less  than  those  who  avowed  it,  should  stand  up  in  the  as- 
sembly and  say,  that  it  was  a very  absurd  thing  that  one  who 
was  created  general  of  such  an  army  witb  absolute  power, 
after  his  troops  were  assembled,  and  the  confederates  were 
come,  should  lose  the  opportunity,  whilst  the  people  were 


ALCIBIADES. 


31S 

cha.^sing  his  juoges  by  iOt,  and  appointing  times  for  the  hear- 
ing of  the  cause.  And,  therefore,  let  him  set  sail  at  once  ^ 
good  fortune  attend  him  ; and  when  the  war  should  be  at  an 
end,  he  might  then  in  person  make  his  defence  according  to 
the  laws. 

Alcibiades  perceived  the  malice  of  this  postponement,  and, 
appearing  in  the  assembly,  represented  that  it  was  monstrous 
for  him  to  be  sent  with  the  command  of  so  large  an  army, 
when  he  lay  under  such  accusations  and  calumnies  ; that  he 
deserved  to  die,  if  he  could  not  clear  himself  of  the  crimes  ob- 
jected to  him  ; but  when  he  had  so  done,  and  had  proved  his 
innocence,  he  should  then  cheerfully  apply  himself  to  the  war, 
as  standing  no  longer  in  fear  of  false  accusers.  But  he  could 
not  prevail  with  the  people,  who  commanded  him  to  sail  im- 
mediately. So  he  departed,  together  with  the  other  generals, 
having  with  them  near  140  galleys,  5,100  men  at  arms,  and 
about  1,300  archers,  slingers  and  light-armed  men,  and  all 
the  other  provisions  corresponding. 

Arriving  on  the  coast  of  Italy,  he  landed  at  Rliegium, 
and  there  stated  his  views  of  the  manner  in  which  they  ought 
to  conduct  the  war.  He  was  opposed  by  Nicias  ; but  La- 
machus  being  of  his  opinion,  they  sailed  for  Sicily  forthwith, 
and  took  Catana.  This  was  all  that  was  done  while  he  was 
there,  for  he  was  soon  after  recalled  by  the  Athenians  to 
abide  his  trial.  At  first,  as  we  before  said,  there  were  only 
some  slight  suspicions  advanced  against  Alcibiades,  and  ac- 
cusations by  certain  slaves  and  strangers.  But  afterwards, 
in  his  absence,  his  enemies  attacked  him  more  violently,  and 
confounded  together  the  breaking  the  images  with  the  pro- 
fanation of  the  mysteries,  as  though  both  had  been  committed 
in  pursuance  of  the  same  conspiracy  for  changing  the  govern- 
ment. The  people  proceeded  to  imprison  ail  that  were  ac- 
cused, without  distinction,  and  without  hearing  them,  and  re- 
pented now,  considering  the  importance  of  the  charge,  that 
they  had  not  immediately  brought  Alcibiades  to  his  trial,  and 
given  judgment  against  him.  Any  of  his  friends  or  acquaint- 
ance who  fell  into  the  people’s  hands,  whilst  they  were  in  this 
tury,  did  not  fail  to  meet  with  very  severe  usage.  Thucydides 
has  omitted  to  name  the  informers,  but  others  mention  Dio- 
elides  and  Teucer.  Amongst  whom  is  Phrynichus,  the  comic 
poet,  in  whom  we  find  the  following  : — 

O dearest  Hermes  1 only  do  take  care, 

And  mind  you  do  not  miss  your  footing  there ; 

Should  you  get  hurt,  occasion  may  arise 
For  a new  Dioclides  to  tell  lies.^^ 


3i6  alcibiades. 

To  which  he  makes  Mercury  return  this  answer : — 

I will  so,  for  I feel  no  inclination 

T j reward  Teucer  for  more  information.’^ 

The  truth  is,  his  accusers  alleged  nothing  that  was  certain 
or  solid  against  him.  One  of  them,  being  asked  how  he 
knew  the  men  who  defaced  the  images,  replying,  that  he  saw 
them  by  the  light  of  the  moon,  made  a palpable  mis-state- 
ment, for  it  was  just  new  moon  when  the  fact  was  committed 
This  made  all  men  of  understanding  cry  out  upon  the  thing ; 
but  the  people  were  as  eager  as  ever  to  receive  further  ac- 
cusations, nor  was  their  first  heat  at  all  abated,  but  they  in- 
stantly seized  and  imprisoned  every  one  that  was  accused. 
Amongst  those  who  were  detained  in  prison  for  their  trials 
was  Andocides  the  orator,  whose  descent  the  historian  Hel- 
lanicus  deduces  from  Ulysses.  He  was  always  supposed  to 
hate  popular  government,  and  to  support  oligarchy.  The 
chief  ground  of  his  being  suspected  of  defacing  the  images 
was  because  the  great  Mercury,  which  stood  near  his  house, 
and  was  an  ancient  monument  of  the  tribe  ASgei's,  w^as  almost 
the  only  statue  of  all  the  remarkable  ones,  which  remained 
entire.  For  this  cause,  it  is  now  called  the  Mercury  of 
Andocides,  all  men  giving  it  that  name,  though  the  inscrip- 
tion is  evidence  to  the  contrary.  It  happened  that  Ando- 
cides, amongst  the  rest  who  where  prisoners  upon  the  same 
account,  contracted  particular  acquaintance  and  intimacy 
with  one  Timaeus,  a person  infe  ior  to  him  in  repute,  but  of 
remarkable  dexterity  and  boldness.  He  persuaded  Andoci- 
des to  accuse  himself  and  some  few  others  of  this  crime, 
urging  to  him  that,  upon  his  confession,  he  would  be,  by  the 
decree  of  the  people,  secure  of  his  pardon,  whereas  the  event 
of  judgment  is  uncertain  to  all  men,  but  to  great  persons, 
such  as  he  was,  most  formidable.  So  that  it  was  better  for 
him,  if  he  regarded  himself,  to  save  his  life  by  a falsity,  than 
to  suffer  an  infamous  death,  as  really  guilty  of  the  crime, 
And  if  he  had  regard  to  the  public  good,  it  was  commenda- 
ble to  sacrifice  a few  suspected  men,  by  that  means  to  rescue 
many  excellent  persons  from  the  fury  of  the  people.  Ando- 
cides was  prevailed  upon,  and  accused  himself  and  some 
others,  and,  by  the  terms  of  the  decree,  obtained  his  pardon, 
while  all  the  persons  named  by  him,  except  some  few  who 
had  saved  themselves  by  flight,  suffered  death.  To  gain  the 
greater  credit  to  his  information,  he  accused  his  own  ser- 
vants amongst  others.  But  notwithstanding  this,  the  people’s 


ALCIBIADES. 


3^7 


anger  was  not  m holly  appeased ; and  being  now  no  longer 
diverted  by  the  mutilators,  they  were  at  leisure  to  pour  out 
their  whole  rage  upon  Alcibiades.  And,  in  conclusion,  they 
sent  the  galley  named  Salaminian,  to  recall  him.  But  they 
expressly  commanded  those  that  were  sent,  to  use  no  vio- 
lence, nor  seize  upon  his  person,  but  address  themselves  to 
him  ir.  the  mildest  terms,  requiring  him  to  follow  them  to 
Athens  in  order  to  abide  his  trial,  and  clear  himself  before 
the  people.  For  they  feared  mutiny  and  sedition  in  the 
army  in  an  enemy ^s  country,  which  indeed  it  would  have 
been  easy  for  Alcibiades  to  effect,  if  he  had  wished  it.  For 
the  soldiers  were  dispirited  upon  his  departure,  expecting 
for  the  future  tedious  delays,  and  that  the  war  would  be  * 
drawn  out  into  a lazy  length  by  Nicias,  when  Alcibiades, 
who  was  the  spur  to  action,  was  taken  away.  For 
though  Laniachus  was  a soldier,  and  a man  courage,  pov^erty 
deprived  him  of  authority  and  respect  in  the  army.  Alcibia- 
des, just  upon  his  departure,  prevented  Messena  from  falling 
into  the  hands  of  the  Athenians.  There  were  some  in  tha" 
city  who  were  upon  the  point  of  delivering  it  up,  but  he, 
knowing  the  persons,  gave  information  to  some  friends  of  the 
Syracusans,  and  so  defeated  the  whole  contrivance.  When 
he  arrived  at  Thurii,  he  went  on  shore,  and  concealing  him- 
self there,  escaped  those  who  searched  after  him.  But  to 
one  who  knew  him,  and  asked  him  if  he  durst  not  trust  his 
own  native  country,  he  made  answer,  “ In  every  thing  else, 
yes  ; but  in  a matter  that  touches  my  life,  I would  not  even 
my  own  mother,  lest  she  might  by  mistake  throw  in  the  black 
ball  instead  of  the  white.’’  When,  afterwards,  he  was  told 
that  the  assembly  had  pronounced  judgment  of  death  against 
him,  all  he  said  was,  I will  make  them  feel  that  I am  alive.” 

The  information  against  him  was  conceived  in  this  form  ; — ■ 

“ Thessalus,  the  son  of  Cimon,  of  the  township  of  Lacia, 
lays  information  that  Alcibiades,  the  son  of  Clinias  of  the 
township  of  the  Scambonidae,  has  committed  a crime  against 
the  goddess  Ce-res.  and  Proserpine,  by  representing  in  derision 
ihe  holy  mysteries,  and  showing  them  to  his  companions  in 
his  own  house.  Where,  being  habited  in  such  robes  as  are 
used  by  the  chief  priest  when  he  shows  the  holy  things,  he 
named  himself  the  chief  priest,  Polytion  the  torch-bearer,  and 
Theodorus,  of  the  township  of  Phegaea,  the  hera-ld  ; and  salu- 
ted the  rest  of  his  company  as  Initiates  and  Novices,  all  which 
was  done  contrary  to  the  laws  and  institutions  of  the  Eumol- 
pidae,  and  the  heralds  and  priests  of  the  temple  at  Eleusis.” 


3«8 


ALCIBIADES. 


He  was  condemned  as  contumacious  upon  his  not  ap- 
pearing, his  property  confiscated,  and  it  was  decreed  that  all 
the  priests  and  priestesses  should  solemnly  curse  him.  But 
one  of  them,  Theano,  the  daughter  of  Mencn,  of  the  townsliip 
of  Agraule,  is  said  to  have  opposed  that  part  of  the  decree, 
saying  that  her  holy  office  obliged  her  to  make  prayers,  but 
not  execrations. 

Aicibiades,  lying  under  these  heavy  decrees  and  sentences, 
when  first  he  fled  from  Thurii,  passed  over  into  Peloponnesus 
and  remained  some  time  at  Argos.  But  being  there  in  fear 
of  his  enemies,  and  seeing  himself  utterly  hopeless  of  return 
to  his  native  country,  he  sent  to  Sparta,  desiring  safe  conduct, 
• and  assuring  them  that  he  would  make  them  amends  by  his 
future  services  for  all  the  mischief  he  had  done  them  while  he 
was  their  enemy.  The  Spartans  giving  him  the  security  he 
desired,  he  went  eagerly,  was  well  received,  and,  at  his  very 
first  coming,  succeeded  in  inducing  them,  without  any  further 
caution  or  delay,  to  send  aid  to  the  Syracusans  ; and  so 
roused  and  excited  them,  that  they  forthwith  despatched 
Gylippus  into  Sicily  to  crush  the  forces  which  the  Athenians 
had  in  Sicily.  A second  point  was  to  renew  the  war  upon  the 
Athenians  at  home.  But  the  third  thing,  and  the  most  im- 
portant of  all,  was  to  make  them  fortify  Decelea,  which  above 
every  thing  reduced  and  wasted  the  resources  of  the  Athe- 
nians. 

The  renown  which  he  earned  by  these  public  services  was 
equalled  by  the  admiration  he  attracted  to  his  private  life ; 
he  captivated  and  won  over  everybody  by  his  conformity  to 
Spartan  habits.  People  who  saw  him  wearing  his  hair  close 
cut,  bathing  in  cold  water,  eating  coarse  meal,  and  dining  on 
black  broth,  doubted,  or  rather  could  not  believe,  that  he  ever 
had  a cook  in  his  house,  or  had  ever  seen  a perfumer,  or  had 
worn  a mantle  of  Milesian  purple.  For  he  had,  as  it  was 
observed,  this  peculiar  talent  and  artifice  for  gaining  men's 
affections,  that  he  could  at  once  comply  with  and  really  em- 
brace and  enter  into  their  habits  and  ways  of  life,  and  change 
faster  than  the  chameleon.  One  color,  indeed,  they  say  the 
chameleon  cannot  assume  ; it  cannot  make  itself  appear 
white  ; but  Aicibiades,  whether  with  gocd  men  or  with  bad^ 
could  adapt  himself  to  his  company,  and  equally  wear  the 
appearance  of  virtue  or  vice.  At  Sparta,  he  was  devoted  to 
athletic  exercises,  was  frugal  and  reserved  ; in  Ionia,  luxuri- 
ous, gay,  and  indolent  ; in  Thrace,  always  drinking;  in  Thes- 
saly, ever  on  horseback  ; and  when  he  lived  with  TiSaphernes 


ALCIBIADES. 


319 


the  Persian  satrap,  he  exceeded  the  Persians  themselves  in 
magnificence  and  pomp.  Not  that  his  natural  disposition 
changed  so  easily,  nor  that  his  real  character  was  so  variable, 
but.  whenever  he  was  sensible  that  by  pursuing  his  own 
inclinations  he  might  give  offence  to  those  with  whom  he  had 
occasion  to  converse,  he  transformed  himself  into  any  shape, 
and  adopted  any  fashion,  that  he  observed  to  be  most  agree- 
able to  them.  So  that  to  have  seen  him  at  Lacedaemon,  a 
man,  judging  by  the  outward  appearance,  would  have  said, 
“ Tis  not  Achilles’s,  son,  but  he  himself  ; the  very  man  ’’  that 
Lycurgus  designed  to  form  ; while  his  real  feeling  and  acts 
would  have  rather  provoked  the  exclamation,  “ ’Tis  the  same 
woman  still.”  For  while  king  Agis  was  absent,  and  abroad 
with  the  army,  he  corrupted  his  wife  Timaea,  and  had  a child 
born  by  her.  Nor  did  she  even  deny  it,  but  when  she  was 
brought  to  bed  of  a son,  called  him  in  public  Leotychides, 
but,  amongst  her  confidants  and  attendants,  would  whisper 
that  his  name  was  Alcibiades.  To  such  a degree  was  she 
transported  by  her  passion  for  him.  He,  on  the  other  side, 
would  say,  in  his  vain  way,  he  had  not  done  this  thing  out  of 
mere  wantonness  of  insult,  nor  to  gratify  a passion,  but  that 
his  race  might  one  day  be  kings  over  the  Lacedaemonians. 

There  were  many  who  told  Agis  that  this  was  so,  but  time 
itself  gave  the  greatest  confirmation  to  the  story.  For  Agis, 
alarmed  by  an  earthquake,  had  quitted  his  wife,  and  for  ten 
months  after  was  never  with  her  ; Leotychides,  therefore, 
being  born  after  these  ten  months,  he  would  not  acknowledge 
him  for  his  son  ; which  was  the  reason  that  afterwards  he 
was  not  admitted  to  the  succession. 

After  the  defeat  which  the  Athenians  received  in  Sicily, 
ambassadors  were  despatched  to  Sparta  at  once  from  Chios 
and  Lesbos  and  Cyzicus,  to  signify  their  purpose  of  revolting 
from  the  Athenians.  The  Boeotians  interposed  in  favor  of 
the  Lesbians,  and  Pharnabazus  of  the  Cyzicenes,  but  the 
Lacedaemonians,  at  the  persuasion  of  Alcibiades,  chose  to 
assist  Chios  before  all  others.  He  himself,  also,  went  in- 
stantly to  sea,  procured  the  immediate  revolt  of  almost  all 
Ionia,  and,  cooperating  with  the  Lacedaemonian  generals,  did 
great  mischief  to  the  Athenians.  But  Agis  was  his  enemy, 
hating  him  for  having  dishonored  his  wife,  and  also  impatient 
of  his  glory,  as  almost  every  enterprise  and  every  success  was 
ascribed  to  Alcibiades.  Others,  also,  of  the  most  powerful 
and  ambitious  amongst  the  Spartans,  were  possessed  with 
jealousy  of  him,  and  at  last,  prevailed  with  the  magistrates  in 


320 


ALCIBIADES. 


t-he  city  to  send  orders  into  Ionia  that  he  should  be  killed. 
Alcibiades,  however,  had  secret  intelligence  of  this,  and  in 
apprehension  of  the  result,  while  he  communicated  all  affairs 
to  the  Lacedaemonians,  yet  took  care  not  to  put  himself  into 
their  power.  At  last  he  retired  to  Tisaphernes,  the  king  of 
Persia’s  satrap,  for  his  security,  and  immediately  became  the 
first  and  most  influential  person  about  him.  For  this  bar- 
barian, not  being  himself  sincere,  but  a lover  of  guile  and 
u ickedness,  admired  his  address  r.nd  wonderful  subtlety.  And, 
indeed,  the  charm  of  daily  intercourse  with  him  was  more 
than  any  character  could  resist  or  any  disposition  escape. 
Even  those  who  feared  and  envied  him  could  not  but  take 
delight,  and  have  a sort  of  kindness  for  him,  when  they  saw 
him  and  were  in  his  company.  So  that  Tisaphernes,  other- 
wise a cruel  character,  and,  above  all  other  Persians,  a hater 
of  the  Greeks,  was  yet  so  won  by  the  flatteries  of  Alcibiades, 
that  he  set  himself  even  to  exceed  him  in  responding  to  them. 
The  most  beautiful  of  his  parks,  containing  salubrious  streams 
and  meadows,  where  he  had  built  pavilions,  and  places  of 
retirement  royally  and  exquisitely  adorned,  received  by  his 
direction  the  name  of  Alcibiades,  and  was  always  so  called 
and  so  spoken  of. 

Thus  Alcibiades,  quitting  the  interests  of  the  Spartans, 
whom  he  could  no  longer  trust,  because  he  stood  in  fear  of 
Agis,  endeavored  to  do  them  ill  offices,  and  render  them 
odious  to  Tisaphernes,  who  by  his  means,  was  hindered  from 
assisting  them  vigorously,  and  from  finally  ruining  the  Athe- 
nians. For  his  advice  was  to  furnish  them  but  sparingly  with 
money,  and  so  wear  them  out,  and  consume  them  insensibly  ; 
when  they  had  wasted  their  strength  upon  one  another,  they 
would  both  become  ready  to  submit  to  the  king.  Tisaphernes 
readily  pursued  his  counsel,  and  so  openly  expressed  the 
liking  and  admiration  which  he  had  for  him,  that  Alcibiades 
was  looked  up  to  by  the  Greeks  of  both  parties,  and  the 
Athenians,  now  in  their  misfortunes,  repented  them  of  their 
severe  sentence  against  him.  And  he,  on  the  other  side, 
began  to  be  troubled  for  them,  and  to  fear  lest,  if  that  com- 
monwealth were  utterly  destroyed,  he  should  fall  into  the 
hands  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  his  enemies. 

At  that  time  the  whole  strength  of  the  Athenians  was  in 
Samos.  Their  fleet  maintained  itself  here,  and  issued  from 
these  head -quarters  to  reduce  such  as  had  revolted,  and  pro- 
tect the  rest  of  their  territories  ; in  one  way  or  other  still 
contriving  to  be  a match  for  their  enemies  at  sea.  What 


ALCIBIADES. 


321 


^hey  stood  hi  har  of  W3,$  Tisaphernes  and  the  Phoenician 
fleet  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  galleys,  which  was  said  to  be 
already  under  sail ; if  those  came,  there  remained  then  no 
hopes  for  the  commonwealth  of  Athens.  Understanding  this, 
Alcibiades  sent  secretly  to  the  chief  men  of  the  Athenian?, 
who  were  then  at  Samos,  giving  them  hopes  that  he  would 
fnake  Tisaphernes  their  friend  ; he  was  willing,  he  implied, 
to  do  some  favor,  not  to  the  people,  nor  in  reliance  upon 
them,  but  to  the  better  citizens,  if  only,  lil  e brave  men,  they 
would  make  the  attempt  to  put  down  the  insolence  of  the 
oeople,  and,  by  taking  upon  them  the  government,  would  en- 
deavor to  save  the  city  from  ruin.  All  of  them  gave  a ready 
ear  to  the  proposal  made  by  Alcibiades,  except  only  Phryni- 
chus,  of  the  township  of  Dirades,  one  of  the  generals,  who 
suspected,  as  the  truth  was,  that  Alcibiades  concerned  not 
himself  whether  the  government  were  in  the  people  or  the 
better  citizens,  but  only  sought  by  any  means  to  make  way 
for  his  return  into  his  native  country,  and  to  that  end  inveighed 
against  the  people,  thereby  to  gain  the  others,  and  to  insinu- 
ate himself  into  their  good  opinion.  But  when  Phrynichus 
found  his  counsel  to  be  rejected  and  that  he  was  himself 
become  a declared  enemy  of  Alcibiades,  he  gave  secret  intel- 
ligence to  Astyochus,  the  enemy’s  admiral,  cautioning  him  to 
beware  of  Alcibiades  and  to  seize  him  as  a double  dealer, 
unaware  that  one  traitor  was  making  discoveries  to  another. 
For  Astyochus,  who  was  eager  to  gain  the  favor  of  Tisapher- 
nes, observing  the  credit  Alcibiades  had  with  him,  revealed 
to  Alcibiades  all  that  Phrynichus  had  said  against  him. 
Alcibiades  at  once  despatched  messengers  to  Samos,  to  accuse 
Phrynichus  of  the  treachery.  Upon  this,  all  the  commanders 
were  enraged  with  Phrynichus,  and  set  themselves  against 
him,  and  he,  seeing  no  other  way  to  extricate  himself  from  the 
present  danger,  attempted  to  remedy  one  evil  by  a greater. 
He  sent  to  Astyochus  to  reproach  him  for  betraying  him,  and 
to  make  an  offer  to  him  at  the  same  time,  to  deliver  into  his 
hands  both  the  army  and  the  navy  of  the  Athenians.  This 
occasioned  no  damage  to  the  Athenians,  because  Astyochus 
repeated  his  treachery  and  revealed  also  this  proposal  to 
Alcibiades.  But  this  again  was  foreseen  by  Phrynichus,  who, 
expecting  a second  accusation  from  Alcibiades,  to  anticipate 
him,  advertised  the  Athenians  beforehand  that  the  enemy 
was  ready  to  sail  in  order  to  surprise  them,  and  therefore 
advised  them  to  fortify  their  camp,  and  be  in  a readiness  to 
go  aboard  their  ships.  While  the  Athenians  were  intent  upon 


322 


ALCIBTADfCS. 


doin^  these  things,  they  received  other  letters  from  Akibia- 
des,  admonishing  them  to  beware  of  Phrynichus,  as  one  who 
designed  to  betray  their  fleet  to  the  enemy,  to  which  they 
then  gave  no  credit  at  all,  conceiving  that  Alcibiades,  who 
knew  perfectly  the  counsels  and  preparations  of  the  enemy, 
was  merely  making  use  of  that  knowledge,  in  order  to  impose 
upon  them  in  this  false  accusation  of  Phrynichus.  Yet,  after- 
wards, when  Phrynichus  was  stabbed  with  a dagger  in  the 
market-place  by  Hermon,  one  of  the  guards,  the  Athenians, 
entering  into  an  examination  of  the  cause,  solemnly  condemned 
Phrynichus  of  treason,  and  decreed  crowns  to  Hermon  and 
his  associates.  And  now  the  friends  of  Alcibiades,  carrying 
all  before  them  at  Samos,  despatched  Pisander  to  Athens, 
to  attempt  a change  of  government,  and  to  encourage  the 
aristocratical  citizens  to  take  upon  themselves  the  government, 
and  overthrow  the  democracy,  representing  to  them,  that 
upon  these  terms,  Alcibiades  would  procure  them  the  friend- 
ship and  alliance  of  Tisaphernes. 

This  was  the  color  and  pretence  made  use  of  by  those 
who  desired  to  change  the  government  of  Athens  to  an  oli- 
garchy. But  as  soon  as  they  prevailed,  and  had  got  the  ad- 
ministration of  affairs  into  their  hands,  under  the  name  of 
the  Five  Thousand  (whereas,  indeed,  they  were  but  four  hun- 
dred), they  slighted  Alcibiades  altogether,  and  prosecuted 
the  war  with  less  vigor ; partly  because  they  durst  not  yet 
trust  the  citizens,  who  secretly  detested  this  change,  and  partly 
because  they  thought  the  Lacedaemonians,  who  always  be- 
friended the  government  of  the  few,  would  be  inclined  to  give 
them  favorable  terms. 

The  people  in  the  city  were  terrified  into  submission,  many 
of  those  who  had  dared  openly  to  oppose  the  four  hundred 
having  been  put  to  death.  But  those  who  were  at  Samos, 
indignant  when  they  heard  this  news,  were  eager  to  set  sail 
instantly  for  the  Piraeus  ; sending  for  Alcibiades,  they  de- 
clared him  general,  requiring  him  to  lead  them  on  to  put  down 
the  tyrants.  He,  however,  in  that  juncture,  did  not,  as  it 
might  have  been  thought  a man  would,  on  being  suddenly 
exalted  by  the  favor  of  a multitude,  think  himself  under  an 
obligation  to  gratify  and  submit  to  all  the  wishes  of  those  who, 
from  a fugitive  and  an  exile,  had  created  him  general  of  so 
great  an  army,  and  given  him  the  command  of  such  a fleet. 
But,  as  became  a great  captain,  he  opposed  himself  to  the 
precipitate  resolutions  which  their  rage  led  them  to,  and,  by 
restraining  them  from  the  great  error  they  were  about  to  com 


ALCIBIADES. 


323 


mit,  unequivocally  saved  the  commonwealth.  For  if  they  then 
sailed  to  Athens,  all  Ionia  and  the  islands  and  the  Hellespont 
would  have  fallen  into  the  enemies’  hands  without  opposition, 
while  the  Athenians,  involved  in  civil  war,  would  have  been 
fighting  with  one  another  within  the  circuit  of  their  own  walls. 
It  was  Alcibiades  alone,  or,  at  least,  principally,  who  prevent- 
ed all  this  mischief  ; for  he  not  only  used  persuasion  to  the 
whole  army,  and  showed  them  the  danger,  but  applied  him- 
self to  them,  one  by  one,  entreating  some,  and  constraining 
others.  He  was  much  assisted,  however,  by  Thrasybulus  of 
Stiria,  who  having  the  loudest  voice,  as  we  are  told,  of  all  the 
Athenians,  went  along  with  him,  and  cried  out  to  those  who 
were  ready  to  be  gone.  A second  great  service  which  Alcibia- 
des did  for  them  was,  his  undertaking  that  the  Phoenician 
fleet,  which  the  Lacedaemonians  expected  to  be  sent  to  them  by 
the  king  of  Persia,  should  either  come  in  aid  of  the  Athenians 
or  otherwise  should  not  come  at  all.  He  sailed  off  with  all 
expedition  in  order  to  perform  this,  and  the  ships,  which  had 
already  been  seen  as  near  as  Aspendus,  were  not  brought 
any  further  by  Tisaphernes,  who  thus  deceived  the  Lacedae- 
monians ; and  it  was  by  both  sides  believed  that  they  had 
been  diverted  by  the  procurement  of  Alcibiades.  The  Lace- 
daemonians, in  particular,  accused  him,  that  he  had  advised 
the  Barbarian  to  stand  still,  and  suffer  the  Greeks  to  waste 
and  destroy  one  another,  as  it  was  evident  that  the  accession 
of  so  great  a force  to  either  party  would  enable  them  to  take 
away  the  entire  dominion  of  the  sea  from  the  other  side. 

Soon  after  this,  the  four  hundred  usurpers  were  driven  out, 
the  friends  of  Alcibiades  vigorously  assisting  those  who  were 
for  the  popular  government.  And  now  the  people  in  the  city 
not  only  desired,  but  commanded  Alcibiades  to  return  home 
from  his  exile.  He,  however,  desired  not  to  owe  his  return  to 
the  mere  grace  and  commiseration  of  the  people,  and  resolved 
to  come  back,  not  with  empty  hands,  but  with  glory,  and  after 
some  service  done.  To  this  end,  he  sailed  from  Samos  with 
a few  ships,  and  cruised  on  the  sea  of  Cnidos,  and  about  the 
isle  of  Cos  ; but  receiving  intelligence  there  that  Mindanis, 
the  Sj)artan  admiral,  had  sailed  with  his  whole  army  into  he 
Hellespont,  and  that  the  Athenians  had  followed  him,  he 
hurried  back  to  succor  the  Athenian  commanders,  and,  by 
good  fortune,  arrived  with  eighteen  galleys  at  a critical  time. 
For  both  the  fleets  having  engaged  near  Abydos,  the  fight 
between  them  had  lasted  till  night,  the  one  side  having 
the  advantage  on  one  quarter,  and  the  other  on  another 


324 


ALCIBIADES. 


Upon  his  first  appearance,  both  sides  formed  a false  impres^ 
sion  ; the  enemy  was  encouraged  and  the  Athenians  terrified. 
But  Alcibiadcs  suddenly  raised  the  Athenian  ensign  in  the  ad- 
miral ship,  and  fell  upon  those  galleys  of  the  Peloponnesians 
which  had  the  advantage  and  were  in  pursuit.  He  soon  put 
these  to  flight,  and  followed  them  so  close  that  he  forced  them 
on  shore,  and  broke  the  ships  in  pieces,  the  sailors  abandon- 
ing them  and  swimming  away  in  spite  of  all  the  efforts  of 
Pharnabazus,  who  had  come  down  to  their  assistance  by  land, 
and  did  what  he  could  to  protect  them  from  the  shore.  In  fine, 
the  Athenians,  having  taken  thirty  of  the  enemy’s  ships,  and 
recovered  all  their  own,  erected  a trophy.  After  the  gaining  of 
so  glorious  a victory,  his  vanity  made  him  eager  to  show  himself 
to  Tisaphernes,  and,  having  furnished  himself  with  gifts  and 
presents,  and  an  equipage  suitable  to  his  dignity,  he  set  out 
to  visit  him.  But  the  thing  did  not  succeed  as  he  had  im- 
agined, for  Tisaphernes  had  been  long  suspected  by  the  Lace- 
daemonians, and  was  afraid  to  fall  into  disgrace  with  his  king 
upon  that  account,  and  therefore  thought  that  Alcibiades  ar- 
rived very  opportunely,  and  immediately  caused  him  to  be 
seized,  and  sent  away  prisoner  to  Sardis  ; fancying,  by  this 
act  of  injustice,  to  clear  himself  from  all  former  imputations. 

But  about  thirty  days  after,  Alcibiades  escaped  from  his 
keeping,  and  having  got  a horse,  fled  to  Clazomenae,  where  he 
procured  Tisaphernes  additional  disgrace  by  professing  he 
was  a party  to  his  escape.  From  there  he  sailed  to  the  Athe- 
nian camp,  and,  being  informed  there  that  Mindarus  and  Phar- 
nabazus were  together  at  Cyzicus,  he  made  a speech  to  the 
soldiers,  telling  them  that  sea-fighting,  land-fighting,  and,  by 
the  gods,  fighting  against  fortified  cities  too,  must  be  all  one 
for  them,  as  unless  they  conquered  everywhere,  there  was  no 
money  for  them.  As  soon  as  ever  he  got  them  on  shipboard, 
he  hasted  to  Proconnesus,  and  gave  command  to  seize  all  the 
small  vessels  they  met,  and  guard  them  safely  in  the  interioi 
of  the  fleet,  that  the  enemy  might  have  no  notice  of  his  com- 
ing ; and  a great  storm  of  rain,  accompanied  with  thunder 
and  darkness,  which  happened  at  the  same  time,  contributed 
much  to  the  concealment  of  his  enterprise.  Indeed,  it  was 
not  only  undiscovered  by  the  enemy,  but  the  Athenians  them- 
selves were  ignorant  of  it,  for  he  commanded  them  suddenly 
on  board,  and  set  sail  when  they  had  abandoned  all  intention 
of  it.  As  the  darkness  presently  passed  away,  the  Pelopon- 
nesian fleet  were  seen  riding  out  at  Sea  in  front  of  the  harbor 
of  Cyzicus.  Fearing,  if  they  discovered  the  number  of  hig 


\LCIBIADES. 


325 


ships,  they  might  endeavor  to  save  themselves  by  land,  he 
commanded  the  rest  of  the  captains  to  slacken,  and  follow 
him  slowly,  whilst  he,  advancing  with  forty  ships  showed  him- 
self to  the  enemy,  and  provoked  them  to  fight.  The  enemy, 
being  deceived  as  to  their  numbers,  despised  them,  and,  sup- 
posing they  were  to  contend  with  those  only,  made  them- 
selves ready  and  began  the  fight.  But  as  soon  as  they  were 
engaged,  they  perceived  the  other  part  of  the  fleet  coming 
down  upon  them,  at  which  they  were  so  terrified  that  they  fled 
immediately.  Upon  that,  Alcibiades,  breaking  through  the 
midst  of  them  with  twenty  of  his  best  ships,  hastened  to  the 
shore,  disembarked,  and  pursued  those  who  abandoned  their 
ships  and  fled  to  land,  and  made  a great  slaughter  of  them. 
Mindarus  and  Pharnabazus,  coming  to  their  succor,  were 
utterly  defeated.  Mindarus  was  slain  upon  the  place,  fight- 
ing valiantly  ; Pharnabazus  saved  himself  by  flight.  The 
Athenians  slew  great  numbers  of  their  enemies,  won  much 
spoil,  and  took  all  their  ships.  They  also  made  themselves 
masters  of  Cyzicus,  which  was  deserted  by  Pharnabazus,  and 
destroyed  its  Peloponnesian  garrison,  and  thereby  not  only 
secured  to  themselves  the  Hellespont,  but  by  force  drove  the 
Lacedaemonians  from  out  of  all  the  rest  of  the  sea.  They  in- 
tercepted some  letters  written  to  the  ephors,  which  gave  an 
account  of  this  fatal  overthrow,  after  their  short  laconic  man- 
ner. “ Our  hopes  are  at  an  end.  Mindarus  is  slain.  The 
men  starve.  We  know  not  what  to  do.'’ 

The  soldiers  who  followed  Alcibiades  in  this  last  fight 
were  so  exalted  with  their  success,  and  felt  that  degree  of 
pride,  that,  looking  on  themselves  as  invincible,  they  dis- 
dained to  mix  with  the  other  soldiers,  who  had  been  often 
overcome.  For  it  happened  not  long  before,  Thrasyllus  had 
received  a defeat  near  Ephesus,  and,  upon  that  occasion,  the 
Ephesians  erected  their  brazen  trophy  to  the  disgrace  of  the 
Athenians.  The  soldiers  of  Alcibiades  reproached  those  who 
%'ere  under  the  command  of  Thrasyllus  with  this  misfor- 
tune, at  the  same  time  magnifying  themselves  and  their  own 
commander,  and  it  went  so  far  that  they  would  not  exercise 
with  them,  nor  lodge  in  the  same  quarters.  But  soon  after, 
Pharnabazus,  with  a great  force  of  horse  and  foot,  falling 
upon  the  soldiers  of  Thrasyllus,  as  they  were  laying  waste  the 
territory  of  Abydos,  Alcibiades  came  to  their  aid,  routed 
Pharnabazus,  and  together  with  Thrasyllus  pursued  him  till  it 
was  night ; and  in  this  action  the  troops  united,  and  returned 
together  to  the  camp,  rejoicing  and  congratulating  one  another. 


326 


ALCIBIADES. 


The  next  day  he  erected  a trophy,  and  then  proceeded  to 
lay  waste  with  fire  and  sword  the  whole  province  which  was 
under  Pharnabazus  where  none  ventured  to  resist ; and  he 
took  divers  priests  and  priestesses,  but  released  them  without 
ransom.  He  prepared  next  to  attack  the  Chalcedonians,  who 
liad  revolted  from  the  Athenians,  and  had  received  a Lace- 
(iremonian  governor  and  garrison.  But  having  intelligence 
that  they  had  removed  their  corn  and  cattle  out  of  the  fields, 
aiid  were  conveying  it  all  to  the  Bithynians,  who  were  their 
friends,  he  drew  down  his  army  to  the  frontier  of  the 
Bithynians,  and  then  sent  a herald  to  charge  them  with 
this  proceeding.  The  Bithynians,  terrified  at  his  approach, 
delivered  up  to  him  the  booty,  and  entered  into  alliance  with 
him. 

Afterwards  he  proceeded  to  the  siege  of  Chalcedon,  and 
enclosed  it  with  a wall  from  sea  to  sea.  Pharnabazus  ad- 
vanced with  his  forces  to  raise  the  siege,  and  Hippocrates, 
the  governor  of  the  town,  at  the  same  time,  gathering  together 
all  the  strength  he  had,  made  a sally  upon  the  Athenians. 
Alcibiades  divided  his  army  so  as  to  engage  both  at  once,  and 
not  only  forced  Pharnabazus  to  a dishonorable  flight,  but 
defeated  Hippocrates,  and  killed  him  and  a number  of  the 
soldiers  with  him.  After  this  he  sailed  into  the  Hellespont,  in 
order  to  raise  supplies  of  money,  and  took  the  city  of  Selym- 
bria,  in  which  action,  through  his  precipitation,  he  exposed 
himself  to  great  danger.  For  some  within  the  town  had  un- 
dertaken to  betray  it  into  his  hands,  and,  by  agreement,  were 
to  give  him  a signal  by  a lighted  torch  about  midnight.  But 
one  of  the  conspirators  beginning  to  repent  himself  of  the 
design,  the  rest,  for  fear  of  being  discovered,  were  driven  to 
give  the  signal  before  the  appointed  hour.  Alcibiades,  as 
soon  as  he  saw  the  torch  lifted  up  in  the  air,  though  his  army 
was  not  in  readiness  to  march,  ran  instantly  towards  the  walls, 
taking  with  him  about  thirty  men  only,  and  commanding  the 
rest  of  the  army  to  follow  him  with  all  possible  speed.  When 
he  came  thither,  he  found  the  gate  opened  for  him  and  entered 
with  his  thirty  men,  and  about  twenty  more  light-armed  men, 
who  were  come  up  to  them.  They  were  no  sooner  in  the 
city,  but  he  perceived  the  Selymbrians  all  armed,  coming 
down  upon  him  ; so  that  there  was  no  hope  of  escaping  if  he 
stayed  to  receive  them  ; and,  on  the  other  hand,  having  been 
always  successful  till  that  day,  wherever  he  commanded,  he 
could  not  endure  to  be  defeated  and  fly.  So,  requiring  silence 
by  sound  of  a trumpet,  he  commanded  one  of  his  men  to 


ALCIBIADES. 


327 


make  proclamation  that  the  Selymbrians  should  not  take  arms 
against  the  Athenians.  This  cooled  such  of  the  inhabitants 
as  were  fiercest  for  the  fight,  for  they  supposed  that  all  their 
enemies  were  within  the  walls,  and  it  raised  the  hopes  of 
others  who  were  disposed  to  an  accommodation.  Whilst  they 
were  parleying,  and  propositions  making  on  one  side  and  the 
other,  Alcibiades's  whole  army  came  up  to  the  town.  And 
now,  conjecturing  rightly,  that  the  Selymbrians  were  well  in- 
clined to  peace,  and  fearing  lest  the  city  might  be  sacked  by 
the  Thracians,  who  came  in  great  numbers  to  his  army  to 
serve  as  volunteers,  out  of  kindness  for  him,  he  commanded 
them  all  to  retreat  without  the  walls.  And  upon  the  submis- 
sion of  the  Selymbrians,  he  saved  them  from  being  pillaged, 
only  taking  of  them  a sum  of  money,  and,  after  placing  an 
Athenian  garrison  in  the  town,  departed. 

During  this  action,  the  Athenian  captains  who  besieged 
Chalcedon  concluded  a treaty  with  Pharnabazus  upon  these 
articles  : That  he  should  give  them  a sum  of  money  ; that 
the  Chalcedonians  should  return  to  the  subjection  of  Athens 
and  that  the  Athenians  should  make  no  inroad  into  the  prov- 
ince whereof  Pharnabazus  was  governor;  and  Pharnabazus 
was  also  to  provide  safe  conducts  for  the  Athenian  ambassa- 
dors to  the  king  of  Persia.  Afterwards,  when  Alcibiades  re- 
turned thither,  Pharnabazus  required  that  he  also  should  be 
sworn  to  the  treaty ; but  he  refused  it,  unless  Pharnabazus 
would  swear  at  the  same  time.  When  the  treaty  was  sworn 
to  on  both  sides,  Alcibiades  went  against  the  Byzantines, 
who  had  revolted  from  the  Athenians,  and  drew  a line  of  cir- 
cumvallation  about  the  city.  But  Anaxilaus  and  Lycurgus, 
together  with  some  others,  having  undertaken  to  betray  the 
city  to  him  upon  his  engagement  to  preserve  the  lives  and 
property  of  the  inhabitants,  he  caused  a report  to  be  spread 
abroad,  as  if  by  reason  of  some  unexpected  movement  in 
Ionia,  he  should  be  obliged  to  raise  the  siege.  And,  accord- 
ingly, that  day  he  made  a show  to  depart  with  his  whole 
fleet ; but  returned  the  same  night,  and  went  ashore  with  all 
his  men  at  arms,  and  silently  and  undiscovered,  marched  up 
to  the  walls.  At  the  same  time,  his  ships  rowed  into  the 
harbor  with  all  possible  violence,  coming  on  with  much  fury, 
and  with  great  shouts  and  outcries.  The  Byzantines,  thus 
surprised  and  astonished,  while  they  all  hurried  to  the  defence 
of  their  port  and  shipping,  gave  opportunity  to  those  who 
favored  the  Athenians,  securely  to  receive  Alcibiades  into  the 
city.  Yet  the  enterprise  was  not  accomplished  without  fight- 


32S 


ALCIBIADES. 


ing,  for  the  Peloponnesians,  Boeotians,  amd  Megarians,  not 
only  repulsed  those  who  came  out  of  the  ships,  and  forced 
them  on  board  again,  but,  hearing  that  the  Athenians  were 
entered  on  the  other  side,  drew  up  in  order,  and  went  to 
meet  them.  Alcibiades,  however,  gained  the  victory  after 
some  sharp  fighting,  in  which  he  himself  had  the  command 
of  the  right  wing,  and  Theramenes  of  the  left,  and  took  about 
three  hundred,  who  survived  of  the  enemy,  prisoners  of  war. 
After  the  battle,  not  one  of  the  Byzantines  was  slain,  or  driven 
out  of  the  city,  according  to  tke  terms  upon  which  the  city 
was  put  into  his  hands,  that  they  should  receive  no  prejudice 
in  life  or  property.  And  thus  Anaxilaus,  being  afterwards 
accused  at  Lacedaemon  for  this  treason,  neither  disowned  nor 
professed  to  be  ashamed  of  the  action ; for  he  urged  that  he 
was  not  a Lacedaemonian,  but  a Byzantine,  and  saw  not  Sparta, 
but  Byzantium,  in  extreme  danger ; the  city  so  blockaded 
that  it  was  not  possible  to  bring  in  any  new  provisions,  and 
the  Peloponnesians  and  Boeotians,  who  were  in  garrison  de- 
vouring the  old  stores,  whilst  the  B37-zantines,  with  their  v/ives 
and  children,  were  starving,  that  he  had  not,  therefore,  be- 
trayed his  country  to  enemies,  but  had  delivered  it  from  the 
calamities  of  war,  and  had  but  followed  the  example  of  the 
most  worthy  Lacedaemonians,  who  esteemed  nothing  to  be 
honorable  and  just,  but  what  was  profitable  for  their  country. 
The  Lacedaemonians,  upon  hearing  his  defence,  respected  it, 
and  discharged  all  that  were  accused. 

And  now  Alcibiades  began  to  desire  to  see  his  native 
country  again,  or  rather  to  show  his  fellow-citizens  a person 
who  had  gained  so  many  victories  for  them.  He  set  sail  for 
Athens,  the  ship  that  accompanied  him  being  adorned  with 
great  numbers  of  shields  and  other  spoils,  and  towing  after 
them  many  galleys  taken  from  the  enemy,  and  the  ensigns 
and  ornaments  of  many  others  which  he  had  sunk  and  de- 
stroyed j all  of  them  together  amounting  to  two  hundred. 
Little  credit,  perhaps,  can  be  given  to  whatDuris  the  Samian, 
who  professed  to  be  descended  from  Alcibiades,  adds,  that 
Chrysogonus,  who  had  gained  a victory  at  the  Pythian  games, 
played  upon  his  flute  for  the  galleys,  whilst  the  oars  kept 
time  wdth  the  music  ; and  that  Callippides,  the  tragedian, 
attired  in  his  buskirs,  his  purple  robes,  and  other  ornaments 
used  in  the  theatre,  gave  the  word  to  the  rowers,  and  that 
the  admiral  galley  entered  into  the  port  with  a purple  sail. 
Neither  Theopompus,  nor  Ephorus,  nor  Xenophon,  mention 
them.  Nor,  indeed,  is  it  credible,  that  one  who  returned 


ALCIBIADES. 


329 


from  so  long  an  exile,  and  such  variety  of  misfortunes,  should 
come  home  to  his  countrymen  in  the  style  of  revellers  break- 
ing up  from  a drinking-party.  On  the  contrary,  he  ventured 
the  harbor  full  of  fear,  nor  would  he  venture  to  go  on  shore, 
till,  standing  on  the  deck,  he  saw  Euryptolemus,  his  cousin, 
and  others  of  his  friends  and  acquaintance,  who  were  ready 
to  receive  him,  and  invited  him  to  land.  As  soon  as  he  was 
landed,  the  multitude  who  came  out  to  meet  him  scarcely 
seemed  so  much  as  to  see  any  of  the  other  captains,  but  came 
in  throngs  about  Alcibiades,  and  saluted  him  with  loud  ac- 
clamations, and  still  followed  him ; those  who  could  press 
near  him  crowned  him  with  garlands,  and  they  who  could  not 
come  up  so  close  yet  stayed  to  behold  him  afar  off,  and  the 
old  men  pointed  him  out,  and  showed  him  to  the  young  ones. 
Nevertheless,  this  public  joy  was  mixed  with  some  tears,  and 
the  present  happiness  was  allayed  by  the  remembrances  of 
the  miseries  they  had  endured.  They  made  reflections,  that 
they  could  not  have  so  unfortunately  miscarried  in  Sicily,  or 
been  defeated  in  any  of  their  other  expectations,  if  they  had 
left  the  management  of  their  affairs  formerly,  and  the  com- 
mand of  their  forces,  to  Alcibiades,  since,  upon  his  undertak- 
ing the  administration,  when  they  were  in  a manner  driven 
from  the  sea,  and  could  scarce  defend  the  suburbs  of  their 
city  by  land,  and,  at  the  same  time,  were  miserably  distracted 
with  intestine  factions,  he  had  raised  them  up  from  this  low 
and  deplorable  condition,  and  had  not  only  restored  them  to 
their  ancient  dominion  of  the  sea,  but  had  also  made  them 
everywhere  victorious  over  their  enemies  on  land. 

There  had  been  a decree  for  recalling  him  from  his  banish- 
ment already  passed  by  the  people,  at  the  instance  of  Critias, 
the  son  of  Callaeschrus,  as  appears  by  his  elegies,  in  which  he 
puts  Alcibiades  in  mind  of  this  service  : — 

From  my  proposal  did  that  edict  come, 

Which  from  your  tedious  exile  brought  you  home 

The  public  vote  at  first  was  moved  by  me, 

And  my  voice  put  the  seal  to  the  decree. 

The  people  being  summoned  to  an  assembly,  Alcibiades  came 
in  amongst  them,  and  first  bewailed  and  lamented  his  own 
sufferings,  and,  in  gentle  terms  complaining  of  the  usage  he 
had  received,  imputed  all  to  his  hard  fortune,  and  some  ill 
genius  that  attended  him : then  he  spoke  at  large  of  their 
prospects,  and  exhorted  them  to  courage  and  good  hope. 
The  people  crowned  him  with  crowns  of  gold,  and  created 
him  general,  both  at  land  and  sea,  with  absolute  power. 


330 


ALCIBIADES. 


They  also  made  a decree  tliat  his  estate  should  be  restored 
to  him,  and  that  the  Eumolpidae  and  the  holy  herald  should 
absolve  him  from  the  curses  which  they  had  solemnly  pro- 
nounced against  him  by  sentence  of  the  people.  Which 
when  all  the  rest  obeyed,  Theodorus,  the  high-priest,  excused 
himself,  For,’’  said  he,  “ if  he  is  innocent,  I never  cursed 
him.’^ 

But  notwithstanding  the  affairs  of  Alcibiadce  went  so 
prosperously,  and  so  mr|ch  to  his  glory,  yet  many  were  stih 
somewhat  disturbed,  and  looked  upon  the  time  of  his  arrival 
to  be  ominous.  For  on  the  day  that  he  came  into  the  port, 
the  feast  of  the  goddess  Minerva,  which  they  call  the  Plynteria, 
was  kept.  It  is  the  twenty-fifth  day  of  Thargelion,  when  the 
Praxiergidae  solemnize  their  secret  rites,  taking  all  the  orna- 
ments from  off  her  image^  and  keeping  the  part  of  the  temple 
where  it  stands  close  covered.  Hence  the  Athenians  esteem 
this  day  most  inauspicious,  and  never  undertake  any  thing  of 
importance  upon  it ; and,  therefore,  they  imagined  that  the 
goddess  did  not  receive  Alcibiades  graciously  and  propitiously, 
thus  hiding  her  face  and  rejecting  him.  Yet  notwithstand 
Ing,  every  thing  succeeded  according  to  his  wish.  When  the 
one  hundred  galleys,  that  were  to  return  with  him,  were  fitted 
out  and  ready  to  sail,  an  honorable  zeal  detained  him  till  the 
celebration  of  the  mysteries  was  over.  For  ever  since  Decelea 
had  been  occupied,  as  the  enemy  commanded  the  roads  lead- 
ing from  Athens  to  Fleusis,  the  procession,  being  conducted 
by  sea,  had  not  been  performed  with  any  proper  solemnity  ; 
they  were  forced  to  omit  the  sacrifices  and  dances  and  other 
holy  ceremonies,  which  had  usually  been  performed  in  the 
way,  when  they  led  forth  lacchus.  Alcibiades,  therefore, 
judged  it  would  be  a glorious  action,  which  would  do  honor 
to  the  gods  and  gain  him  esteem  with  men,  if  he  restored  the 
ancient  splendor  to  these  rites,  escorting  the  procession  again 
by  land,  and  protecting  it  with  his  army  in  the  face  of  the 
enemy.  For  either,  if  Agis  stood  still  and  did  not  oppose,  it 
would  very  much  diminish  and  obscure  his  reputation,  or,  in 
the  other  alternative,  Alcibiades  would  engage  in  a holy  war, 
in  the  cause  of  the  gods,  and  in  defence  of  the  most  sacred 
and  solemn  ceremonies  ; and  this  in  the  sight  of  his  country, 
where  he  should  have  all  his  fellow-citizens  witnesses  of  his 
valor.  As  soon  as  he  had  resolved  upon  this  design,  and 
had  communicated  it  to  the  Fumolpidae  and  heralds,  he 
placed  sentinels  on  the  tops  of  the  hills,  and  at  the  break  of 
day  sent  forth  his  scouts.  Ar.d  then  taking  with  him  tha 


ALCIBIADES. 


33* 


priests  and  Initiates  and  the  Initators,  and  encompassing 
them  with  his  soldiers,  he  conducted  them  with  great  order 
and  profound  silence  ; an  august  and  venerable  procession, 
wherein  all  who  did  not  envy  him  said  he  performed  at  once 
the  office  of  a high-priest  and  of  a general.  The  enemy  did 
not  dare  to  attempt  any  thing  against  them,  and  thus  he 
brought  them  back  in  safety  to  the  city.  Upon  which,  as  he 
was  exalted  in  his  own  thought,  so  the  opinion  which  the 
people  had  of  his  conduct  was  raised  to  that  degree,  that 
they  looked  upon  their  armies  as  irresistible  and  invincible 
while  he  commanded  them  ; and  he  so  won,  indeed,  upon  the 
lower  and  meaner  sort  of  people,  that  they  passionately  de- 
sired to  have  him  tyrant  over  them,  and  some  of  them  did 
not  scruple  to  tell  him  so,  and  to  advise  him  to  put  himself 
out  of  the  reach  of  envy,  by  abolishing  the  laws  and  ordinan- 
ces of  the  people,  and  suppressing  the  idle  talkers  that  w^ere 
ruining  the  state,  that  so  he  might  act  and  take  upon  him 
the  management  of  affairs,  without  standing  in  fear  of  being 
called  to  an  account. 

How  far  his  own  inclinations  led  him  to  usurp  sovereign 
power,  is  uncertain,  but  the  most  considerable  persons  in  the 
city  were  so  much  afraid  of  it,  that  they  hastened  him  on  ship- 
board as  speedily  as  they  could,  appointing  the  colleagues 
\vhom  he  chose,  and  allov/ing  him  all  other  things  as  he 
Jesired.  Thereupon  he  set  sail  with  a fleet  of  one  hundred 
ships,  and,  arriving  at  Andros,  he  there  fought  with  and 
defeated  as  well  the  inhabitants  as  the  Lacedaemonians  who 
assisted  them.  He  did  not,  however,  take  the  city  ; which 
gave  the  first  occasion  to  his  enemies  for  all  their  accusations 
against  him.  Certainly,  if  ever  man  was  ruined  by  his  own 
glory,  it  w^as  Alcibiades.  For  his  continual  success  had 
produced  such  an  idea  of  his  courage  and  conduct,  that  if  he 
failed  in  anything  he  undertook,  it  was  imputed  to  his  neglect, 
and  no  one  would  believe  it  was  through  want  of  power.  For 
they  thought  nothing  was  too  hard  for  him,  if  he  went  about 
it  in  good  earnest.  They  fancied,  every  day,  that  they  should 
hear  news  of  the  reduction  of  Chios,  and  of  the  rest  of  Ionia, 
and  grew  impatient  that  things  were  not  effected  as  fast  and 
as  rapidly  as  they  could  wish  for  them.  They  never  consid- 
ered how  extremely  money  was  wanting,  and  that,  having  to 
carry  on  war  with  an  enemy  who  had  supplies  of  all  things 
from  a great  king,  he  was  often  forced  to  quit  his  armament, 
in  order  to  procure  money  and  provisions  for  the  subsistence 
of  his  soldiers.  This  it  was  which  gave  occasion  for  the  last 


332 


ALCIBIADES. 


accusation  which  was  made  against  him.  For  Lysander, 
being  sent  from  Lacedaemon  with  a commission  to  be  admiral 
of  their  fleet,  and  being  furnished  by  Cyrus  with  a great  sum 
of  money,  gave  every  sailor  four  obols  a day,  whereas  before 
they  had  but  three.  Alcibiades  could  hardly  allow  his  men 
three  obols,  and  therefore  was  constrained  to  go  into  Caria  to 
furnish  himself  with  money.  He  left  the  care  of  the  fleet,  in 
his  absence,  to  Antiochus,  an  experienced  seaman,  but  rash 
and  inconsiderate,  who  had  express  orders  from  Alcibiades 
not  to  engage,  though  the  enemy  provoked  him.  But  he 
slighted  and  disregarded  these  directions  to  that  degree,  that, 
having  made  ready  his  own  galley  and  another,  he  stood  for 
Ephesus,  where  the  enemy  lay,  and,  as  he  sailed  before  the 
heads  of  their  galleys,  used  every  provocation  possible,  both 
in  words  and  deeds.  Lysander  at  first  manned  out  a few 
ships,  and  pursued  him.  But  all  the  Athenian  ships  coming 
in  to  his  assistance,  Lysander,  also,  brought  up  his  whole  fleet, 
which  gained  an  entire  victory.  He  slew  Antiochus  himself, 
took  many  men  and  ships,  and  erected  a trophy. 

As  soon  as  Alcibiades  heard  this  news,  he  returned  to 
Samos,  and  loosing  from  hence  with  his  whole  fleet,  came  and 
offered  battle  to  Lysander.  But  Lysander,  content  with  the 
victory  he  had  gained,  would  not  stir.  Amongst  others  in  the 
army  who  hated  Alcibiades,  Thrasybulus,  the  son  of  Thrason, 
was  his  particular  enemy,  and  went  purposely  to  Athens  to 
accuse  him,  and  to  exasperate  his  enemies  in  the  city  against 
him.  Addressing  the  people,  he  represented  that  Alcibiades 
had  ruined  their  affairs  and  lost  their  ships  by  mere  self-con- 
ceited neglect  of  his  duties,  committing  the  government  of  the 
army,  in  his  absence,  to  men  who  gained  his  favor  by  drinking 
and  scurrilous  talking,  whilst  he  wandered  up  and  down  at 
pleasure  to  raise  money,  giving  himself  up  to  every  sort  of 
luxury  and  excess  amongst  the  courtesans  of  Abydos  and 
Ionia,  at  a time  when  the  enemy’s  navy  were  on  the  watch 
close  at  hand.  It  was  also  objected  to  him,  that  he  had  for- 
tified a castle  near  Bisanthe  in  Thrace,  for  a safe  retreat  for 
himself,  as  one  that  either  could  not,  or  would  not,  live  in  his 
own  country.  The  Athenians  gave  credit  to  these  informa- 
tions, and  showed  the  resentment  and  displeasure  which  they 
had  conceived  against  him,  by  choosing  other  generals. 

As  soon  as  Alcibiades  heard  of  this,  he  immediately 
forsook  the  army,  afraid  of  what  might  follow  ; and,  collecting 
a body  of  mercenary  soldiers,  made  war  upon  his  own  account 
agairst  those  Thracians  who  called  themselves  free,  and 


ALCIBIADES. 


333 


acknowledged  no  king.  By  this  means  he  amassed  to  himself 
a considerable  treasure,  and,  at  the  same  time,  secured  the 
bordering  Greeks  from  the  incursions  of  the  barbarians. 

Tydeus,  Menander,  and  Adimantus,  the  new-made  gener- 
als, were  at  that  time  posted  at  ^gospotami,  with  all  the  ships 
which  the  Athenians  had  left.  From  whence  they  were  used 
to  go  out  to  sea  every  morning,  and  offer  battle  to  Lysander, 
who  lay  near  Lampsacus  ; and  when  they  had  done  so,  return- 
ing back  again,  lay,  all  the  rest  of  the  day,  carelessly  and 
without  order,  in  contempt  of  the  enemy.  Alcibiades,  who 
was  not  far  off,  did  not  think  so  slightly  )f  their  danger,  nor 
neglect  to  let  them  know  it,  but,  mounting  his  horse,  came  to 
the  generals,  and  represented  to  them  that  they  had  chosen  a 
very  inconvenient  station,  where  there  was  no  safe  harbor,  and 
where  they  were  distant  from  any  town  ; so  that  they  were 
constrained  to  send  for  their  necessary  provisions  as  far  as 
Sestos.  He  also  pointed  out  to  them  their  carelessness  in 
suffering  the  soldiers,  when  they  went  ashore,  to  disperse  and 
wander  up  and  down  at  their  pleasure,  while  the  enemy’s 
fleet,  under  the  command  of  one  general,  and  strictly  obedi- 
ent to  discipline,  lay  so  very  near  them.  He  advised  them  to 
remove  the  fleet  to  Sestos.  But  the  admirals  not  only  disre- 
garded what  he  said,  but  Tydeus,  with  insulting  expressions, 
commanded  him  to  be  gone,  saying,  that  now  not  he,  but 
others,  had  the  command  of  the  forces.  Alcibiades,  suspecting 
some  thing  of  treachery  in  them,  departed,  and  told  his  friends, 
who  accompanied  him  out  of  the  camp,  that  if  the  generals 
had  not  used  him  with  such  insupportable  contempt,  he  would 
within  a few  days  have  forced  the  Lacedaemonians,  however 
unwilling,  either  to  have  fought  the  Athenians  at  sea  or  to 
have  deserted  their  ships.  Some  looked  upon  this  as  a piece 
of  ostentation  only ; others  said,  the  thing  was  probable,  for 
that  he  might  have  brought  down  by  land  great  numbers  of 
the  Thracian  cavalry  and  archers,  to  assault  and  disorder 
them  in  their  camp.  The  event,  however,  soon  made  it  evi- 
dent how  rightly  he  had  judged  of  the  errors  which  the  Athe- 
nians committed.  For  Lysander  fell  upon  them  on  a sudden, 
when  they  least  suspected  it,  with  such  fury  that  Conon  alone, 
with  eight  galleys,  escaped  him  ; all  the  rest,  which  were 
about  two  hundred,  he  took  and  carried  away,  together  with 
three  thousand  prisoners,  whom  he  put  to  death.  And  within 
a short  time  after,  he  took  Athens  itself,  burnt  all  the  ships 
which  he  found  there,  and  demolished  their  long  walls. 

After  this,  Alcibiades,  standing  in  dread  of  the  Lacedae 


334 


ALCIBIADES. 


monians,  who  ^vere  now  masters  both  at  sea  and  land,  retired 
into  Bithynia.  He  sent  thither  great  treasure  before  him, 
took  much  with  him,  but  left  much  more  in  the  castle  where 
he  had  before  resided.  But  he  lost  great  part  of  his  wealth 
in  Bithynia,  being  robbed  by  some  Thracians  who  lived  in 
those  parts,  and  thereupon  determined  to  go  to  the  court  of 
Artaxerxes,  not  doubting  but  that  the  king,  if  he  would  make 
trial  of  his  abilities,  would  find  him  not  inferior  to  Thcmisto- 
cles,  besides  that  he  was  recommended  by  a more  honorable 
cause.  For  he  went,  not  as  Themistocles  did,  to  offer  his 
service  against  his  fellow-citizens,  but  against  their  enemies, 
and  to  implore  the  king’s  aid  for  the  defence  of  his  country. 
He  concluded  that  Pharnabazus  would  most  readily  procure 
him  a safe  conduct,  and  therefore  went  into  Phrygia  to  him, 
and  continued  to  dwell  there  some  time,  paying  him  great 
respect,  and  being  honorably  treated  by  him.  The  Athenians, 
in  the  mean  time,  were  miserably  afflicted  at  their  loss  ot 
empire  ; but  when  they  were  deprived  of  liberty  also,  and 
Lysander  set  up  thirty  despotic  rulers  in  the  city,  in  their 
ruin  now  they  began  to  turn  to  those  thoughts  which,  while 
safety  was  yet  possible,  they  would  not  entertain ; they 
acknowledged  and  bewailed  their  former  errors  and  follies, 
and  judged  this  second  ill-usage  of  Alcibiades  to  be  of  all  the 
most  inexcusable.  For  he  was  rejected  without  any  fault 
committed  by  himself,  and  only  because  they  were  incensed 
against  his  subordinate  for  having  shamefully  lost  a few  ships, 
they  much  more  shamefully  deprived  the  commonwealth  of  its 
most  valiant  and  accomplished  general.  Yet  in  this  sad  state 
of  affairs,  they  had  still  some  faint  hopes  left  them,  nor  would 
they  utterly  despair  of  the  Athenian  commonwealth,  while 
Alcibiades  was  safe.  For  they  persuaded  themselves  that  if 
before,  when  he  was  an  exile,  he  could  not  content  himself  to 
live  idly  and  at  ease,  much  less  now,  if  he  could  find  any 
favorable  opportunity,  would  he  endure  the  insolence  of  the 
Lacedaemonians,  and  the  outrages  of  the  Thirty.  Nor  was  it 
an  absurd  thing  in  the  people  to  entertain  such  imaginations, 
when  the  Thirty  themselves  were  so  very  solicitous  to  be 
informed  and  to  get  intelligence  of  all  his  actions  and  designs. 
In  fine,  Critias  represented  to  Lysander  that  the  Lacedaemoni- 
ans could  never  securely  enjoy  the  dominion  of  Greece,  till  the 
Athenian  democracy  was  absolutely  destroyed  ; and,  though 
now  the  people  of  Athens  seemed  quietly  and  patiently  to 
submit  to  so  small  a number  of  governors,  yet  so  long  as 
Alcibiades  lived,  the  knowledge  of  this  fact  would  never  suffei 
them  to  acquiesce  in  their  present  circumstances. 


A^LCIBIAHES. 


335 


Yet  Lysander  would  not  be  prevailed  upon  by  lliese 
representations,  till  at  last  he  received  secret  orders  from  the 
magistrates  of  Lacedaemon,  expressly  requiring  him  to  get 
A^lcibiades  despatched  : whether  it  was  that  they  feared  his 
energy  and  boldness  in  enterprising  what  was  hazardous,  or 
that  it  was  done  to  gratify  king  Agis.  Upon  receipt  of  this 
Older,  Lysander  sent  away  a messenger  to  Pharnabaziis, 
desiring  him  to  put  it  in  execution.  Pharnabazus  committed 
the  affair  to  Magseus,  his  brother,  and  to  his  uncle  Susa- 
mithres.  Alcibiades  resided  at  that  time  in  a small  village 
in  Phrygia,  together  with  Timandra,  a mistress  of  his.  As  he 
slept,  he  had  this  dream : he  thought  himself  attired  in  his 
mistress’s  habit,  and  that  she,  holding  him  in  her  aims, 
dressed  his  head  and  painted  his  face  as  if  he  had  been  a 
woman  ; others  say,  he  dreamed  that  he  saw  Magaeus  cut  off 
liis  head  and  burn  his  body ; at  any  rate,  it  was  but  a little 
while  before  his  death  that  he  had  these  visions.  Those  who 
were  sent  to  assassinate  him  had  not  courage  enough  to  enter 
the  house,  but  surrounded  it  first,  and  set  it  on  fire.  Alcibi- 
ades, as  soon  as  he  perceived  it,  getting  together  great  quan- 
tities of  clothes  and  furniture,  threw  them  upon  the  fire  to 
choke  it,  and,  having  wrapped  his  cloak  about  his  left  arm, 
and  holding  his  naked  sword  in  his  right,  he  cast  himself  into 
the  middle  of  the  fire,  and  escaped  securely  through  it  before 
his  clothes  were  burnt.  The  barbarians,  as  soon  as  they  saw 
him,  retreated,  and  none  of  them  durst  stay  to  wait  for  him, 
or  to  engage  with  him,  but,  standing  at  a distance,  they  slew 
him  with  their  darts  and  arrows.  When  he  was  dead  the 
barbarians  departed,  and  Timandra  took  up  his  dead  body, 
and,  covering  and  wrapping  it  up  in  her  own  robes,  she  buried 
it  as  decently  and  as  honorably  as  her  circumstances  would 
allow.  It  is  said,  that  the  famous  Lais,  who  was  called  the 
Corinthian,  though  she  was  a native  of  Hyccara,  a small 
town  in  Sicily,  from  whence  she  was  brought  a captive,  was 
the  daughter  of  this  Timandra.  There  are  some  who  agree 
with  this  account  of  Alcibiades’s  death  in  all  points,  except 
that  they  impute  the  cause  of  it  neither  to  Pharnabazus,  nor 
Lysander,  nor  the  Lacedaemonians:  but  they  say,  he  was 
keeping  with  him  a young  lady  of  a noble  house,  whom  he 
had  debauched,  and  that  her  brothers,  not  being  able  to 
endure  the  indignity,  set  fire  by  night  to  the  house  where  he 
was  living,  and,  as  he  endeavored  to  save  himself  from  the 
flames,  slew  him  with  their  darts,  in  the  manner  just  related. 


336 


CORIOLANUS. 


CORIOLANUS. 

The  patrician  house  of  the  Marcii  in  Rome  produced 
many  men  of  distinction,  and  among  the  rest,  Ancus  Maicius^ 
grandson  to  Numa  by  his  daughter,  and  king  after  Tullua 
Hostilius,  of  the  same  family  were  also  Publius  and  Quintus 
Marcius,  which  two  conveyed  into  the  city  the  best  and  most 
.abundant  supply  of  water  they  have  at  Rome.  As  likewise 
Censorinus,  who,  having  been  twice  chosen  censor  by  the 
people,  afterwards  himself  induced  them  to  make  a law  that 
nobody  should  bear  that  office  twice.  But  Caius  Marcius,  of 
whom  I now  write,  being  left  an  orphan,  and  brought  up 
under  the  widowhood  of  his  mother,  has  shown  us  by  experi 
ence,  that,  although  the  early  loss  of  a father  may  be  attended 
with  other  disadvantages,  yet  it  can  hinder  none  from  being 
either  virtuous  or  eminent  in  the  world,  and  that  it  is  no 
obstacle  to  true  goodness  and  excellence  ; however  bad  men 
may  be  pleased  to  lay  the  blame  of  their  corruptions  upon 
that  misfortune  and  the  neglect  of  them  in  their  minority. 
Nor  is  he  less  an  evidence  to  the  truth  of  their  opinion  who 
conceive  that  a generous  and  worthy  nature  without  proper 
discipline,  like  a rich  soil  without  culture,  is  apt,  v/ith  it, 
better  fruits,  to  produce  also  much  that  is  bad  and  faulty. 
While  the  force  and  vigor  of  his  soul,  and  a persevering  con- 
stancy in  all  he  undertook,  led  him  successfully  into  many 
noble  achievements,  yet,  on  the  other  side,  also,  by  indulging 
the  vehemence  of  his  passion,  and  through  an  obstinate  re- 
luctance to  yield  or  accommodate  his  humors  and  sentiments 
to  those  of  a people  about  him,  he  rendered  himself  incapable 
of  acting  and  associating  with  others.  Those  who  saw  with 
admiration  hcv  proof  his  nature  was  against  all  the  softnesses 
of  pleasure,  the  hardships  of  service,  and  the  allurements  of 
gain,  while  allowing  to  that  universal  firmness  of  his,  the 
respective  names  of  temperance,  fortitude,  and  justice,  yet,  in 
the  life  of  the  citizen  and  the  statesman,  could  not  choose  but 
be  disgusted  at  the  severity  and  ruggedness  of  his  deport- 
ment, and  with  his  overbearing,  haughty,  and  imperious  tem- 
per. Education  and  study,  and  the  favors  of  the  muses, 
confer  no  greater  benefit  on  those  that  seek  them,  than  these 
humanizing  and  civilizing  lessons,  which  teach  our  natural 


CORiOLANUS.  337 

qualities  to  submit  to  the  limitations  prescribed  by  reason, 
and  to  avoid  the  wildness  of  extremes. 

Those  were  times  at  Rome  in  which  that  kind  of  worth 
was  most  esteemed  which  displayed  itself  in  military  achieve- 
ments ; one  evidence  of  which  we  find  in  the  Latin  word  for 
virtue,  which  is  properly  equivalent  to  manly  courage.  As  if 
valor  and  all  virtue  had  been  the  same  thing,  they  used  as 
the  common  term  the  name  of  the  particular  excellence.  But 
Mircius,  having  a more  passionate  inclination  than  any  of 
that  age  for  feats  of  war,  began  at  once,  from  his  very  child- 
hood, to  handle  arms  ; and  feeling  that  adventitious  imple- 
ments and  artificial  arms  would  effect  little,  and  be  of  small 
u>s  to  such  as  have  not  their  native  and  natural  weapons  well 
fixed  and  prepared  for  service,  he  so  exercised  and  inured  his 
body  to  all  sorts  of  activity  and  encounter,  that  besides  the 
lightness  of  a racer,  he  had  a weight  in  close  seizures  and 
wrestlings  with  an  enemy,  from  which  it  was  hard  for  any  to 
disengage  himself ; so  that  his  competitors  at  home  in  dis- 
plays of  bravery,  loath  to  own  themselves  inferior  in  that 
respect,  were  wont  to  ascribe  their  deficiencies  to  his  strength 
of  body,  which  they  said  no  resistance  and  no  fatigue  could 
exhaust. 

The  first  time  he  went  out  to  the  wars,  being  yet  a strip- 
ling, was  when  Tarquinius  Superbus,  who  had  been  king  of 
Rome  and  was  afterwards  expelled,  after  many  unsuccessful 
attempts,  now  entered  upon  his  last  effort,  and  proceeded  to 
hazard  all  as  it  were  upon  a single  throw.  A great  number 
of  the  Latins  and  other  people  of  Italy  joined  their  forces, 
and  were  marching  with  him  toward  the  city,  to  procure  his 
restoration  ; not,  however,  so  much  out  of  a desire  to  serve 
and  oblige  Tarquin,  as  to  gratify  their  own  fear  and  envy 
at  the  increase  of  the  Roman  greatness  ; which  they  were 
anxious  to  check  and  reduce.  The  armies  met  and  engaged 
in  a decisive  battle,  in  the  vicissitudes  of  which,  Marcius, 
while  fighting  bravely  in  the  dictator’s  presence,  saw  a Roman 
soldier  siruck  down  at  a little  distance,  and  immediately 
stepped  in  and  stood  before  him,  and  slew  his  assailant.  The 
general,  after  having  gained  the  victory,  crowned  him  for 
this  act,  one  of  the  first,  with  a garland  of  oaken  branches  ; 
it  being  the  Roman  custom  thus  to  adorn  those  who  had 
saved  the  life  of  a citizen  ; whether  that  the  law  intended 
some  special  honor  to  the  oak,  in  memory  of  the  Arcadians,  a 
people  the  oracle  had  made  famous  by  the  name  of  acorn 
eaters  ; or  whether  the  reason  of  it  was  because  they  might 

22 


33^ 


CORIOl!?fNUS. 


easily,  and  in  all  places  where  they  fought,  have  plenty  of 
oak  for  that  purpose  ; or,  finally,  whether  the  oaken  wreath, 
being  sacred  to  Jupiter,  the  guardian  of  the  city,  might,  there- 
fore, be  thought  a proper  ornament  for  one  who  preserved  a 
citizen.  And  the  oak,  in  truth,  is  the  tree  which  bears  the 
most  and  the  prettiest  fruit  of  any  that  grow  wild,  and  is  the 
strongest  of  all  that  are  under  cultivation ; its  acorns  were 
the  principal  diet  of  the  first  mortals,  and  the  honey  found  in 
it  gave  them  drink.  I may  say,  too,  it  furnished  fowl  and 
other  creatures  as  dainties,  in  producing  mistletoe  for  bird- 
lime to  ensnare  them.  In  this  battle,  meantime,  it  is  stated 
that  Castor  and  Pollux  appeared,  and  immediately  after  the 
battle,  were  seen  at  Rome  just  by  the  fountain  where  their 
temple  now  stands,  with  their  horses  foaming  with  sweat,  and 
told  the  news  of  the  victory  to  the  people  in  the  Forum.  The 
fifteenth  of  July,  being  the  day  of  this  conquest,  became  con- 
sequently a solemn  holiday  sacred  to  the  Twin  Brothers. 

It  may  be  observed,  in  general,  that  when  young  men 
arrive  early  at  fame  and  repute,  if  they  are  of  a nature  but 
slightly  touched  with  emulation,  this  early  attainment  is  apt 
to  extinguish  their  thirst  and  satiate  their  small  appetite  ^ 
whereas  the  first  distinctions  of  more  solid  and  weighty  char- 
acters do  but  stimulate  and  quicken  them  and  take  them 
away,  like  a wind,  in  the  pursuit  of  honor  ; they  look  upon 
these  marks  and  testimonies  to  their  virtue  not  as  a recoim 
pense  received  for  what  they  have  already  done,  but  as  a 
pledge  given  by  themselves  of  what  they  will  perform  here- 
after, ashamed  now  to  forsake  or  underlive  the  credit  they 
have  won,  or,  rather,  not  to  exceed  and  obscure  all  that  is 
gone  before  by  the  lustre  of  their  following  actions.  Mar- 
cius,  having  a spirit  of  this  noble  make,  was  ambitious  always 
to  surpass  himself,  and  did  nothing,  how  extraordinary  soever, 
but  he  thought  he  was  bound  to  outdo  it  at  the  next  occa- 
sion ; and  ever  desiring  to  give  continual  fresh  instances  of 
his  prowess,  he  added  one  exploit  to  another,  and  heaped  up 
trophies  upon  trophies,  so  as  to  make  it  matter  of  contest 
also  among  his  commanders,  the  later  still  vying  with  the 
earlier,  which  should  pay  him  the  greatest  honor  and  speak 
highest  in  his  commendation.  Of  all  the  numerous  wars  and 
conflicts  in  those  days  there  was  not  one  from  which  he  re- 
turned without  laurels  and  rewards.  And,  whereas  others 
made  glory  the  end  of  their  daring,  the  end  of  his  glory  was 
his  mother’s  gladness;  the  delight  she  took  to  hear  him 
praised  and  to  see  him  crowned,  and  her  weeping  for  joy  in 


CORIOLANUS. 


33S 


his  embraces,  rendered  him,  in  his  own  thoughts,  the  most 
honored  and  most  happy  person  in  the  world.  Epaminondas 
is  similarly  said  to  have  acknowledged  his  feeling,  that  it 
was  the  greatest  felicity  of  his  whole  life  that  his  father  and 
mother  survived  to  hear  of  his  successful  generalship  and  his 
victory  at  Leuctra.  And  he  had  the  advantage,  indeed,  to 
have  both  his  parents  partake  with  him,  and  enjoy  the  pleas- 
ure of  his  good  fortune.  But  Marcius,  believing  himself 
bound  to  pay  his  mother  Volumnia  all  that  gratitude  and  duty 
which  would  have  belonged  to  his  father,  had  he  also  been 
alive,  could  never  satiate  himself  in  his  tenderness  and  re- 
spect to  her.  He  took  a wife,  also,  at  her  request  and  wisli, 
and  continued,  even  after  he  had  children,  to  live  still  with 
his  mother,  without  parting  families. 

The  repute  of  his  integrity  and  courage  had,  by  this  time, 
gained  him  a considerable  influence  and  authority  in  Rome, 
when  the  senate,  favoring  the  wealthier  citizens,  began  to  be 
at  variance  with  the  common  people,  who  made  sad  complaints 
of  the  rigorous  and  inhuman  usage  they  received  from  the 
money-lenders.  For  as  many  as  were  behind  with  them,  and 
had  any  sort  of  property,  they  stripped  of  all  they  had,  by  the 
way  of  pledges  and  sales  ; and  such  as  through  former  exac- 
tions were  reduced  already  to  extreme  indigence,  and  had 
nothing  more  to  be  deprived  of,  these  they  led  away  in  person 
and  put  their  bodies  under  constraint,  notwithstanding  the 
scars  and  wounds  that  they  could  show  in  attestation  of  their 
public  services  in  numerous  campaigns  ; the  last  of  which  had 
been  against  the  Sabines,  which  they  undertook  upon  a promise 
made  by  their  rich  creditors  that  they  would  treat  them  with 
more  gentleness  for  the  future,  Marcus  Valerius,  the  consul, 
having,  by  order  from  the  senate,  engaged  also  for  the  per- 
formance of  it.  But  when,  after  they  had  fought  courageously 
and  beaten  the  enemy,  there  was,  nevertheless,  no  moderation 
or  forbearance  used,  and  the  senate  also  professed  to  remem- 
ber nothing  of  that  agreement,  and  sat  without  testifying  the 
least  concern  to  sec  them  dragged  away  like  slaves  and  Iheii 
goods  seized  upon  as  formerly,  there  began  rcw  to  be  open 
disorders  and  dangerous  meetings  in  the  city  ; c.nd  the  enemy, 
also,  aware  of  the  popular  confusion,  invaded  and  laid  waste 
the  country.  And  when  the  consuls  now  gave  notice,  that  all 
who  were  of  an  age  to  bear  arms  should  make  their  personal 
appearance,  but  found  no  one  regard  the  summons,  the  mem- 
oers  of  the  government,  then  coming  to  consult  what  course 
should  be  taken,  were  themselves  again  divided  in  opinion  ; 


340 


CORIOLANUS. 


some  thought  it  most  advisable  to  comply  a little  in  favor  ot 
the  poor,  by  relaxing  their  overstrained  rights,  and  miagating 
the  extreme  rigor  of  the  law,  while  others  withstood  this  pro- 
posal ; Marcius  in  particular,  with  more  vehemence  than  the 
rest,  alleging  that  the  business  of  money  on  either  side  was 
not  the  main  thing  in  question,  urged  that  this  disorderly  pro- 
ceeding was  but  the  first  insolent  step  towards  open  revolt 
against  the  laws,  which  it  would  become  the  wisdom  of  the 
government  to  check  at  the  earliest  moment. 

There  had  been  frequent  assemblies  of  the  whole  senate, 
within  a small  compass  of  time,  about  this  difficulty,  but  with- 
out any  certain  issue  ; the  poor  commonalty,  therefore,  perceiv- 
ing there  was  likely  to  be  no  redress  of  their  grievances,  on  a 
sudden  collected  in  a body,  and  encouraging  each  other  in 
their  resolution,  forsook  the  city  with  one  accord,  and  seizing 
the  hill  which  is  now  called  the  Holy  Mount,  sat  down  by  the 
river  Anio,  without  committing  any  sort  of  violence  or  seditious 
outrage,  but  merely  exclaiming,  as  they  went  along,  that  they 
had  this  long  time  past  been,  in  fact,  expelled  and  excluded 
from  the  city  by  the  cruelty  of  the  rich  ; that  Italy  would 
everywhere  afford  them  the  benefit  of  air  and  water  and  a place 
of  burial,  which  was  all  they  could  expect  in  the  city,  unless 
it  were,  perhaps,  the  privilege  of  being  wounded  and  killed  in 
time  of  war  for  the  defence  of  their  creditors.  The  senate, 
apprehending  the  consequences,  sent  the  most  moderate  and 
popular  men  of  their  own  order  to  treat  with  them. 

Meneniu.^  Agrippa,  their  chief  spokesman,  after  much  en- 
treaty to  the  people,  and  much  plain  speaking  on  behalf  of  the 
senate,  concluded,  at  length,  with  the  celebrated  fable.  “ It 
once  happened,’*  he  said,  “ that  all  the  other  members  of  a man 
mutinied  against  the  stomach,  which  they  accused  as  the  only 
idle,  uncontributing  part  in  the  whole  body,  while  the  rest 
were  put  to  hardships  and  the  expense  of  much  labor  to  supply 
and  minister  to  its  appetites.  The  stomach,  however,  merely 
ridiculed  the  silliness  of  the  members,  who  appeared  not  to 
be  aware  that  the  stomach  certainly  does  receive  the  general 
nourishment,  but  only  to  return  it  again,  and  redistribute  it 
amongst  the  rest.  Such  is  the  case,”  he  said,  “ ye  citizens, 
between  you  and  the  senate.  The  counsels  and  plans  that 
are  there  duly  digested,  convey  and  secure  to  all  of  you  your 
proper  benefit  and  support.” 

A reconciliation  ensued,  the  senate  acceding  to  the  request’ 
of  the  people  for  the  annual  election  of  five  protectors  for 
those  in  need  of  succor,  the  same  that  are  now  called  the 


CORIOLANUS. 


341 


tribunes  of  the  people;  and  the  first  two  they  pitched  upon 
were  Junius  Brutus,  and  Sicinnius  Vellutus,  their  leaders  in 
the  secession. 

The  city  being  thus  united,  the  commons  stood  presently 
to  their  arms,  and  followed  their  commanders  to  the  war  with 
great  alacrity.  As  for  Marcius,  though  he  was  not  a little  vexed 
himself  to  see  the  populace  prevail  so  far,  and  gain  ground  of 
the  senators,  and  might  observe  many  other  patricians  have 
the  same  dislike  of  the  late  concessions,  he  yet  besought  them 
not  to  yield  at  least  to  the  common  people  in  the  zeal  and  for* 
wardness  they  now  showed  for  their  country’s  service,  but  to 
prove  that  they  were  superior  to  them,  not  so  much  in  power 
and  riches,  as  in  merit  and  worth. 

The  Romans  were  now  at  war  with  the  Volscian  nation, 
whose  principal  city  was  Corioli ; when,  therefore,  Cominius 
the  consul  had  invested  this  important  place,  the  rest ‘of  the 
Volscians,  fearing  it  would  be  taken,  mustered  up  whatever 
force  they  could  from  all  parts,  to  relieve  it,  designing  to  give 
the  Romans  battle  before  the  city,  and  so  attack  them  on  both 
sides.  Cominius,  to  avoid  this  inconvenience,  divided  his 
army,  marching  himself  with  one  body  to  encounter  the 
Volscians  on  their  approach  from  without  and  leaving  Titus 
Lartius,  one  of  the  bravest  Romans  of  his  time,  to  com- 
mand the  other  and  continue  the  siege.  Those  within  Corioli, 
despising  now  the  smallness  of  their  number,  made  a sally 
upon  them,  and  prevailed  at  first,  and  pursued  the  Romans 
into  their  trenches.  Here  it  was  that  Marcius,  flying  out 
with  a slender  company,  and  cutting  those  in  pieces  that  first 
engaged  him,  obliged  the  other  assailants  to  slacken  their 
speed  ; and  then,  v/ith  loud  cries,  called  upon  the  Romans 
to  renew  the  battle.  For  he  had,  what  Cato  thought  a great 
point  in  a soldier,  not  only  strength  of  hand  and  stroke,  but 
also  a voice  and  look  that  of  themselves  were  a terror  to  an 
enemy.  Divers  of  his  own  party  now  rallying  and  making 
up  to  him,  the  enemies  soon  retreated  ; but  Marcius,  not  con 
tent  to  see  them  draw  off  and  retire,  pressed  hard  upon  the 
rear,  and  drove  them,  as  they  fled  away  in  haste,  to  the  very 
gates  of  their  city ; where,  perceiving  the  Romans  to  fall  back 
from  their  pursuit,  beaten  off  by  the  multitude  of  darts  poured 
in  upon  them  from  the  walls,  and  that  none  of  his  followers 
had  the  hardiness  to  think  of  falling  in  pell-mell  among  the 
fugitives  and  so  entering  a city  full  of  enemies  in  arms,  he^ 
nevertheless,  stood  and  urged  them  to  the  attempt,  crying  out, 
that  fortune  had  now  sat  open  Corioli,  not  so  much  to  shelter 


342 


CORIOLANUS. 


the  vanquished,  as  to  receive  the  conquerors.  Seconded  by 
a few  that  were  willing  to  venture  with  him,  he  bore  along 
through  the  crowd,  made  good  his  passage,  and  thrust  himself 
into  the  gate  through  the  midst  of  them,  nobody  at  first  daring 
to  resist  him.  But  when  the  citizens  on  looking  about,  saw 
that  a very  small  number  had  entered,  they  now  took  courage, 
and  came  up  and  attacked  them.  A combat  ensued  of  the 
most  extraordinary  description,  in  which  Marcius,  by  strength 
of  hand,  and  swiftness  of  foot,  and  daring  of  soul,  overpower- 
ing every  one  that  he  assailed,  succeeded  in  driving  the  enemy 
to  seek  refuge,  for  the  most  part,  in  the  interior  of  the  town, 
while  the  remaining  submitted,  and  threw  down  their  arms  ; 
thus  affording  Lartius  abundant  opportunity  to  bring  in  the  rest 
of  the  Romans  with  ease  and  safety. 

Corioli  being  thus  surprised  and  taken,  the  greater  part  of 
the  soldiers  employed  themselves  in  spoiling  and  pillaging  it, 
while  Marcius  indignantly  reproached  them,  and  exclaimed 
that  it  was  a dishonorable  and  unworthy  thing,  when  the  con- 
sul and  their  fellow-citizens  had  now  perhaps  encountered  the 
other  Volscians,  and  were  hazarding  their  lives  in  battle, 
basely  to  misspend  the  time  in  running  up  and  down  for  booty, 
and,  under  a pretence  of  enriching  themselves,  keep  out  of 
danger.  Few  paid  him  any  attention,  but,  putting  himself  at 
the  head  of  these,  he  took  the  road  by  which  the  consul’s  army 
had  marched  before  him,  encouraging  his  companions,  and  be- 
seeching them,  as  they  went  along,  not  to  give  up,  and  praying 
often  to  the  gods,  too,  that  he  might  be  so  happy  as  to  arrive 
before  the  fight  was  over,  and  come  seasonably  up  to  assist 
Cominius,  and  partake  in  the  peril  of  the  action. 

It  was  customary  with  the  Romans  of  that  age,  when  they 
were  moving  into  battle  array,  and  were  on  the  point  of  taking 
up  their  bucklers,  and  girding  their  coats  about  them,  to  make 
at  the  same  time  an  unwritten  will,  or  verbal  testament,  and 
to  name  who  should  be  their  heirs,  in  the  hearing  of  three  or 
four  witnesses.  In  this  precise  posture  Marcius  found  them  at 
his  arrival,  the  enemy  being  advanced  within  view. 

They  were  not  a little  disturbed  by  his  first  appearance, 
seeing  him  covered  with  blood  and  sweat,  and  attended  with 
a small  train  ; but  when  he  hastily  made  up  to  the  consul  with 
gladness  in  his  looks,  giving  him  his  hand,  and  recounting  lo 
him  how  the  city  had  been  taken,  and  when  they  saw  Comin- 
ius also  embrace  and  salute  him,  every  one  took  fresh  heart  ; 
those  that  were  near  enough  hearing,  and  those  that  were  at 
a distance  guessing,  what  had  happened ; and  all  cried  out  tc 


CORIOLANUS. 


343 


be  led  to  battle.  First,  however,  Marcius  desired  to  know  of 
him  how  the  Volscians  had  arrayed  their  army,  and  where 
they  had  placed  their  best  men,  and  on  his  answering  that  he 
took  the  troops  of  the  Antiates  in  the  centre  to  be  their  prime 
warriors,  that  would  yield  to  none  in  bravery,  ‘‘  Let  me  demand 
and  obtain  of  you,”  said  Marcius,  “ that  we  may  be  posted 
against  them.”  The  consul  granted  the  request,  with  much 
admiiation  for  his  gallantry.  And  when  the  conflict  began 
by  the  soldiers  darting  at  each  other,  and  Marcius  sallied  out 
before  the  rest,  the  Volscians  opposed  to  him  were  not  able 
to  make  head  against  him  ; wherever  he  fell  in,  he  broke  their 
ranks,  and  made  a lane  through  them  ; but  the  parties  turning 
again,  and  enclosing  him  on  each  side  with  their  weapons, 
the  consul,  who  observed  the  danger  he  was  in,  despatched 
some  of  the  choicest  men  he  had  for  his  rescue.  The  conflict 
then  growing  warm  and  sharp  about  Marcius,  and  many  fall- 
ing dead  in  a little  space,  the  Romans  bore  so  hard  upon 
the  enemies,  and  pressed  them  with  such  violence,  that  they 
forced  them  at  length  to  abandon  their  ground,  and  to  quit  the 
field.  And  going  now  to  prosecute  the  victory,  they  besought 
Marcius,  tired  out  with  his  toils,  and  faint  and  heavy  through 
the  loss  of  blood,  that  he  would  retire  to  the  camp.  He  re- 
plied, however,  that  weariness  was  not  for  conquerors,  and 
joined  with  them  in  the  pursuit.  The  rest  of  the  Volscian 
army  was  in  like  manner  defeated,  great  numbers  killed,  and 
no  less  taken  captive. 

The  day  after,  when  Marcius,  with  the  rest  of  the  army, 
presented  themselves  at  the  consuFs  tent,  Cominius  rose,  and 
having  rendered  all  due  acknowledgment  to  the  gods  for  the 
success  of  that  enterprise,  turned  next  to  Marcius,  and  first  of 
all  delivered  the  strongest  encomium  upon  his  rare  exploits 
which  he  had  partly  been  an  eye-witness  of  himself,  in  the 
late  battle,  and  had  partly  learned  from  the  testimony  of  Lar- 
tius.  And  then  he  required  him  to  choose  a tenth  part  of  all 
the  treasure  and  horses  and  captives  that  had  fallen  into  their 
hands,  before  any  division  should  be  made  to  others  ; besides 
which,  he  made  him  the  special  present  of  a horse  with  trap- 
pings and  ornaments,  in  honor  of  his  actions.  The  whole  army 
applauded  ; Marcius,  however,  stepped  forth,  and  declaring  his 
thankful  acceptance  of  the  horse,  and  his  gratification  at  the 
praises  of  his  general,  said,  that  all  other  things,  which  he 
could  only  legard  rather  as  mercenary  advantages  than  any 
significations  of  honor,  he  must  waive,  and  should  be  content 
with  the  ordinary  proportion  of  such  rewards.  “ I have  only/ 


344 


CORIOLANUS. 


said  he,  one  special  grace  to  beg,  and  this  I hope  you  will 
not  deny  me.  There  was  a certain  hospitable  friend  of  mine 
among  the  Volscians,  a man  of  probity  and  virtue,  who  is 
become  a prisoner,  and  from  former  wealth  and  freedom  is 
now  reduced  to  servitude.  Among  his  many  misfortunes  let 
my  intercession  redeem  him  from  the  one  of  being  sold  as  a 
common  slave.’’  Such  a refusal  and  such  a request  on  the  part 
of  Marcius  were  followed  with  yet  louder  acclamations ; and 
he  had  many  more  admirers  of  this  generous  superiority  to 
avarice,  than  of  the  bravery  he  had  shown  in  battle.  The  very 
persons  who  conceived  some  envy  and  despite  to  see  him 
so  specially  honored,  could  not  but  acknowledge,  that  one  who 
so  nobly  could  refuse  reward,  was  beyond  others  worthy  to 
receive  it ; and  were  more  charmed  with  that  virtue  which 
made  him  despise  advantage,  than  with  any  of  those  former 
actions  that  have  gained  him  his  title  to  it.  It  is  the  higher 
accomplishment  to  use  money  well  than  to  use  arms  ; but  not 
to  need  it  is  more  noble  than  to  use  it. 

When  the  noise  of  approbation  and  applause  ceased,  Co- 
minius,  resuming,  said,  “ It  is  idle,  feJlow-^oldiers,  to  force  and 
obtrude  those  other  gifts  of  ours  on  one  who  is  unwilling  to 
accept  them  ; let  us,  therefore,  give  him  one  of  such  a kind  that 
he  cannot  well  reject  it;  let  us  pass  a vote,  I mean,  that  he 
shall  hereafter  be  called  Coriolanus,  unless  you  think  that  his 
performance  at  Corioli  has  itself  anticipated  any  such  resolu> 
tion.”  Hence,  therefore,  he  had  his  third  name  of  Coriola- 
nus, making  it  all  the  plainer  that  Caius  was  a personal  proper 
name,  and  the  second,  or  surname,  Marcius,  one  common  to 
his  house  and  family  ; the  third  being  a subsequent  addition 
which  used  to  be  imposed  either  from  some  particular  act  or 
fortune,  bodily  characteristic,  or  good  quality  of  the  bearer. 
Just  as  the  Greeks,  too,  gave  additional  names  in  old  time,  in 
some  cases  from  some  achievement,  Soter,  for  example,  and 
Cahinicus  ; or  personal  appearance,  as  Physcon  and  Grypus  ; 
good  qualities,  Euergetes  and  Philadelphus  ; good  fortune, 
Eudaemon,  the  title  of  the  second  Battus.  Several  monarchs 
have  also  had  names  given  them  in  mockery,  as  Antigonus  was 
called  Doson,  and  Ptolemy,  Latbyrus.  This  sort  of  title  was 
yet  more  common  among  the  Romans.  One  of  the  Metelli 
was  surnamed  Diadematus,  because  he  walked  about  for  a 
long  time  with  a bandage  on  his  head  to  conceal  a scar ; and 
another,  of  the  same  family,  got  the  name  of  Celer,  from  the 
rapidity  he  displayed  in  giving  a funeral  entertainment  of 
gladiators  within  a few  days  after  his  father’s  death,  his  speed 


CORIOLANUS. 


34S 


and  energy  in  doing  which  was  thought  extraordinary.  There 
are  some  too,  who  even  at  this  day  take  names  from  certain 
casual  incidents  at  their  nativity ; a child  that  is  born  when 
his  father  is  away  from  home  is  called  Proculus  ; or  Postumus, 
if  after  his  decease ; and  when  twins  come  into  the  world,  and 
one  dies  at  the  birth,  the  survivor  has  the  name  of  Vopiscus. 
From  bodily  peculiarities  they  derive  not  only  their  Syllas  and 
Nigers,  but  their  Caeci  and  Claudii ; wisely  endeavoring  to 
accustom  their  people  not  to  reckon  either  the  loss  of  sight, 
or  any  other  bodily  misfortune,  as  a matter  of  disgrace  to 
them,  but  to  answer  to  such  names  without  shame,  as  if  they 
were  really  their  own.  But  this  discussion  better  befits  an- 
other place. 

The  war  against  the  Volscians  was  no  sooner  at  an  end, 
than  the  popular  orators  revived  domestic  troubles,  and 
raised  another  sedition,  without  any  new  cause  or  complaint 
or  just  grievance  to  proceed  upon,  but  merely  turning  the  very 
mischiefs  that  unavoidably  ensued  from  their  former  contests 
into  a pretext  against  the  patricians.  The  greatest  part  of 
their  arable  land  had  been  left  unsown  and  without  tillage, 
and  the  time  of  war  allowing  them  no  means  or  leisure  to  im- 
port provision  from  other  countries,  there  was  an  extreme 
scarcity.  The  movers  of  the  people  then  observing,  that 
there  was  no  corn  to  be  bought,  and  that,  if  there  had  been 
they  had  no  money  to  buy  it,  began  to  calumniate  the  wealthy 
with  false  stories  and  whisper  it  about,  as  if  they,  out  of  their 
malice,  had  purposely  contrived  the  famine.  Meanwhile, 
there  came  an  embassy  from  the  Velitrani,  proposing  to  de- 
liver up  their  city  to  the  Romans,  and  desiring  they  would  send 
some  new  inhabitants  to  people  it,  as  a late  pestilential  disease 
had  swept  away  so  many  of  the  natives,  that  there  was  hardly 
a tenth  part  remaining  of  their  whole  community.  This  ne- 
cessity of  the  Velitrani  was  considered  by  all  more  prudent 
people  as  most  opportune  in  the  present  state  of  affairs; 
since  the  dearth  made  it  needful  to  ease  the  city  of  its  super- 
fluous members,  and  they  were  in  hope  also,  at  the  same  time, 
to  dissipate  the  gathering  sedition  by  ridding  themselves  of  the 
more  violent  and  heated  partisans,  and  discharging,  so  to  say, 
the  elements  of  disease  and  disorder  in  the  state.  The  consuls, 
therefore,  singled  out  such  citizens  to  supply  the  desolation 
at  Velitrae,  and  gave  notice  to  others,  that  they  should  be 
ready  to  march  against  the  Volscians,  with  the  politic  design 
of  preventing  intestine  broils  by  employment  abroad,  and  in 
the  hope,  that  when  rich  as  well  as  poor,  plebeians  and  patri 


346 


CORIOLANUS. 


cians,  should  be  mingled  again  in  the  same  army  and  the 
same  camp,  and  engage  in  one  common  service  for  the  pub- 
lic, it  would  mutually  dispose  them  to  reconciliation  and  friend- 
ship. 

But  Sicinnius  and  Brutus,  the  popular  orators,  interposed, 
crying  out,  that  the  consuls  disguised  the  most  cruel  and  bar- 
barous action  in  the  world  under  that  mild  and  plausible  name 
of  a colony,  and  were  simply  precipitating  so  many  poor  citizens 
into  a mere  pit  of  destruction,  bidding  them  settle  down  in  a 
country  where  the  air  was  charged  with  disease,  and  the  ground 
covered  with  dead  bodies,  and  expose  themselves  to  the  evil 
influence  of  a strange  and  angered  deity.  And  then,  as  if  it 
would  not  satisfy  their  hatred  to  destroy  some  by  hunger,  and 
offer  others  to  the  mercy  of  a plague,  they  must  proceed  to 
involve  them  also  in  a needless  war  of  their  own  making,  that 
no  calamity  might  be  wanting  to  complete  the  punishment  of 
the  citizens  for  refusing  to  submit  to  that  of  slavery  to  the 
rich. 

By  such  addresses,  the  people  were  so  possessed,  that  none 
of  them  would  appear  upon  the  consular  summons  to  be  en- 
listed for  the  war ; and  they  showed  entire  aversion  to.  the 
proposal  for  a new  plantation  ; so  that  the  senate  was  at  a 
loss  what  to  say  or  do.  But  Marcius,  who  began  now  to  bear 
himself  higher  and  to  feel  confidence  in  his  past  actions,  con- 
scious, too,  of  the  admiration  of  the  best  and  greatest  men  of 
Rome,  openly  took  the  lead  in  opposing  the  favorers  of  the 
people.  The  colony  was  despatched  to  Velitrae,  those  that 
were  chosen  by  lot  being  compelled  to  depart  upon  high  pen- 
alties ; and  when  they  obstinately  persisted  in  refusing  to  en- 
roll themselves  for  the  Volscian  service,  he  mustered  up  his 
own  clients,  and  as  many  others  as  could  be  wrought  upon  by 
persuasion,  and  with  these  made  inroad  into  the  territories  of 
the  Antiates,  where,  finding  a considerable  quantity  of  corn, 
and  collecting  much  booty,  both  of  cattle  and  prisoners,  he 
reserved  nothing  for  himself  in  private,  but  returned  safe  to 
Rome,  while  those  that  ventured  out  with  him  were  seen  la- 
den with  pillage,  and  driving  their  prey  before  them.  This  sight 
filled  those  that  had  stayed  at  home  with  regret  for  their  per- 
verseness, with  envy  at  their  fortunate  fellow-citizens,  and 
with  feelings  of  dislike  to  Marcius,  and  hostility  to  his  growing 
reputation  and  power,  which  might  probably  be  used  against 
the  popular  interest. 

Not  long  after  he  stood  for  the  consulship  : when,  how- 
ever, the  people  began  to  relent  and  incline  to  favor  him,  be- 


CORIOLANUS. 


347 


ing  sensible  what  a shame  it  would  be  to  repulse  and  affront 
a man  of  his  birth  and  merit,  after  he  had  done  them  so  many 
signal  services.  It  was  usual  for  those  who  stood  for  offices 
among  them  to  solicit  and  address  themselves  personally  to 
the  citizens,  presenting  themselves  in  the  forum  with  the  toga 
on  alone,  and  no  tunic  under  it ; either  to  promote  their 
^ supplications  by  the  humility  of  their  dress,  or  that  such  as 
had  received  wounds  might  more  readily  display  those  marks 
of  their  fortitude.  Certainly,  it  was  not  out  of  suspicion  of 
bribery  and  corruption  that  they  required  all  such  petitioners 
for  their  favor  to  appear  ungirt  and  open,  without  any  close 
garment ; as  it  was  much  later,  and  many  ages  after  this,  that 
buying  and  selling  crept  in  at  their  elections,  and  money  be- 
came an  ingredient  in  the  public  suffrages  ; proceeding  thence 
to  attempt  their  tribunals,  and  even  attack  their  camps,  till,  by 
hiring  the  valiant,  and  enslaving  iron  to  silver,  it  grew  master 
of  the  state,  and  turned  their  commonwealth  into  a monarchy. 
For  it  was  well  and  truly  said  that  the  first  destroyer  of  the 
liberties  of  a people  is  he  who  first  gave  them  bounties  and 
largesses.  At  Rome  the  mischief  seems  to  have  stolen  se- 
cretly in,  and  by  little  and  little,  not  being  at  once  discerned 
and  taken  notice  of.  It  is  not  certainly  known  who  the  man 
was  that  did  there  first  either  bribe  the  citizens,  or  corrupt 
the  courts  ; whereas,  in  Athens,  Anytus,  the  son  of  Anthe- 
mion,  is  said  to  have  been  the  first  that  gave  money  to  the 
judges,  when  on  his  trial,  toward  the  latter  end  of  the  Pelo- 
ponnesian war,  for  letting  the  fort  of  Pylos  fall  into  the  hands 
of  the  enemy ; in  a period  while  the  pure  and  golden  race  of 
men  were  still  in  possession  of  the  Roman  forum. 

Marcius,  therefore,  as  the  fashion  of  candidates  was,  show- 
ing the  scars  and  gashes  that  were  still  visible  on  his  body, 
from  the  many  conflicts  in  which  he  had  signalized  himself 
during  a service  of  seventeen  years  together,  they  were,  so  to 
say,  put  out  of  countenance  at  this  display  of  merit,  and  told 
one  another  that  they  ought  in  common  modesty  to  create 
him  consul.  But  when  the  day  of  election  was  now  come,  and 
Marcius  appeared  in  the  forum,  with  a pompous  train  of  sena- 
tors attending  him,  and  the  patricians  all  manifested  greater 
concern,  and  seemed  to  be  exerting  greater  efforts,  than  they 
had  ever  done  before  on  the  like  occasion,  the  commons  then 
fell  off  again  from  the  kindness  they  had  conceived  for  him, 
and  in  the  place  of  their  late  benevolence,  began  to  feel  some- 
thing of  indignation  and  envy  ; passions  assisted  by  the  fear 
they  entertained,  that  if  a man  of  such  aristocratic  temper; 


548 


CORIOLANUS. 


and  so  influential  among  the  patricians,  should  be  invested 
with  the  power  which  that  office  would  give  him,  he  might 
employ  it  to  deprive  the  people  of  all  that  liberty  which  was 
yet  left  them.  In  conclusion,  they  rejected  Marcius.  Two 
other  names  were  announced,  to  the  great  mortification  of  the 
senators,  who  felt  as  if  the  indignity  reflected  rather  upon 
themselves  than  on  Marcius.  He,  for  his  part,  could  not  bear 
the  affront  with  any  patience.  He  had  always  indulged  his 
temper,  and  had  regarded  the  proud  and  contentious  element 
of  human  nature  as  a sort  of  nobleness  and  magnanimity  ; 
reason  and  discipline  had  not  imbued  him  with  that  solidity 
and  equanimity  which  enters  so  largely  into  the  virtues  of 
the  statesman.  He  had  never  learned  how  essential  it  is  for 
any  one  who  undertakes  public  business,  and  desires  to  deal 
with  mankind,  to  avoid  above  all  things  that  self-will,  which, 
as  Plato  says,  belongs  to  the  family  of  solitude ; and  to 
pursue,  above  all  things,  that  capacity  so  generally  ridiculed, 
of  submission  to  ill-treatment.  Marcius,  straightforward  and 
direct,  and  possessed  with  the  idea  that  to  vanquish  and  over- 
bear all  opposition  is  the  true  part  of  bravery,  and  never  imagin- 
ing that  it  was  the  weakness  and  womanishness  of  his  nature 
that  broke  out,  so  to  say,  in  these  ulcerations  of  anger,  retired, 
full  of  fury  and  bitterness  against  the  people.  The  young  pa- 
tricians, too,  all  that  were  proudest  and  most  conscious  of 
their  noble  birth,  had  always  been  devoted  to  his  interest,  and, 
adhering  to  him  now,  with  a fidelity  that  did  him  no  good, 
aggravated  his  resentment  with  the  expression  of  their  indigna- 
tion and  condolence.  He  had  been  their  captain,  and  their 
willing  instructor  in  the  arts  of  war,  when  out  upon  expedi- 
tions, and  their  model  in  that  true  emulation  and  love  of  ex- 
cellence which  makes  men  extol,  without  envy  or  jealousy, 
each  other’s  brave  achievements. 

In  the  midst  of  these  distempers,  a large  quantity  of  corn 
reached  Rome,  a great  part  bought  up  in  Italy,  but  an  equal 
amount  sent  as  a present  from  Syracuse, from  Gelo,then  reigning 
there.  Many  began  now  to  hope  well  of  their  affairs,  suppos- 
ing the  city,  by  this  means,  would  be  delivered  at  once,  both  of 
its  want  and  discord.  A council,  therefore,  being  presently  held, 
the  people  came  flocking  about  the  senate-house,  eagerly  await- 
ing the  issue  of  that  deliberation,  expecting  that  the  market- 
prices  would  now  be  less  cruel,  and  that  what  had  come  as  gift, 
would  be  distributed  as  such.  There  were  some  within  who 
so  advised  the  senate  ; but  Marcius,  standing  up,  sharply  in- 
veighed against  those  who  spoke  in  favor  of  the  multitude; 


CORIOLANUS. 


349 


calling  them  flatterers  of  the  rabble,  traitors  to  the  nobility, 
and  alleging,  that,  by  such  gratifications,  they  did  but  cherish 
those  ill  seeds  of  boldness  and  petulance  that  had  been  sown 
among  the  people,  to  their  own  prejudice,  which  they  should 
have  done  well  to  observe  and  stifle  at  their  first  appearance, 
and  not  have  suffered  the  plebeians  to  grow  so  strong,  by 
granting  them  magistrates  of  such  authority  as  the  tribunes. 
They  were,  indeed,  even  now  formidable  to  the  state,  since 
every  thing  they  desired  was  granted  them  ; no  constraint 
was  put  on  their  will ; they  refused  obedience  to  the  consuls, 
and,  overthrowing  all  law  and  magistracy,  gave  the  title  of 
magistrate  to  their  private  factious  leaders.  When  things 
are  come  to  such  a pass  for  us  to  sit  here  and  decree  largesses 
and  bounties  for  them,  like  those  Greeks  where  the  populace 
is  supreme  and  absolute,  what  would  it  be  else,’’  said  he, 
‘‘  but  to  take  their  disobedience  into  pay  and  maintain  it  for 
the  common  ruin  of  us  all  ? They  certainly  cannot  look  upon 
these  liberalities  as  a reward  of  public  service,  which  they 
know  they  have  so  often  deserted  ; nor  yet  of  those  seces- 
sions, by  which  they  openly  renounced  their  country ; much 
less  of  the  calumnies  and  slanders  they  have  been  always  so 
ready  to  entertain  against  the  senate  ; but  will  rather  conclude 
that  a bounty  which  seems  to  have  no  other  visible  cause  or 
reason,  must  needs  be  the  effect  of  our  fear  and  flattery ; and 
will,  therefore,  set  no  limit  to  their  disobedience,  nor  ever 
cease  from  disturbances  and  sedition.  Concession  is  mere 
madness  ; if  we  have  any  wisdom  and  resolution  at  all,  we 
shall,  on  the  contrary,  never  rest  till  we  have  recovered  from 
them  that  tribun ician  power  they  have  extorted  from  us  ; as 
being  a plain  subversion  of  the  consulship,  and  a perpetual 
ground  of  separation  in  our  city  that  is  no  longer  one,  as 
heretofore,  but  has  in  this  received  such  a wound  and  rupture, 
as  is  never  likely  to  close  and  unite  again,  or  suffer  us  to  be 
of  one  mind,  and  to  give  over  inflaming  our  distempers,  and 
being  a torment  to  each  other.” 

Marcius,  with  much  more  to  this  purpose,  succeeded,  to 
an  extraordinary  degree,  in  inspiring  the  younger  men  with 
the  same  furious  sentiments,  and  had  almost  all  the  wealthy 
on  his  side*  who  cried  him  up  as  the  only  person  their  city  had, 
superior  alike  to  force  and  flattery ; some  of  the  older  men, 
however,  opposed  him,  suspecting  the  consequences.  As,  in- 
deed, there  came  no  good  of  it ; for  the  tribunes,  who  were 
present,  perceiving  how  the  proposal  of  Marcius  took,  ran  out 
into  the  crowd  with  exclamations,  calling  on  the  plebeians  to 


CORIOLANUS. 


35c 

Stand  together,  and  come  in  to  their  assistance.  The  assem 
bly  met,  and  soon  become  tumultuous.  The  sum  of  what 
Marcius  had  spoken,  having  been  reported  to  the  people 
excited  them  to  such  fury,  that  they  were  ready  to  break 
in  upon  the  senate.  The  tribunes  prevented  this,  by  laying 
all  the  blame  on  Coriolanus,  whom,  therefore,  they  cited  by 
their  messengers  to  come  before  them,  and  defend  himself. 
And  when  he  contemptuously  repulsed  the  officers  who  brought 
him  the  summons,  they  came  themselves,  with  the  ^diles,  or  . 
overseers  of  the  market,  proposing  to  carry  him  away  by  force, 
and,  accordingly,  began  to  lay  hold  on  his  person.  The 
patricians,  however,  coming  to  his  rescue,  not  only  thrust  off 
the  tribunes,  but  also  beat  the  ^diles,  that  were  their  seconds 
in  the  quarrel ; night  approching,  put  an  end  to  the  contest. 
But,  as  soon  as  it  was  day,  the  consuls,  observing  the  people 
to  be  highly  exasperated,  and  that  they  ran  from  all  quarters 
and  gathered  in  the  forum,  were  afraid  for  the  whole  city,  so 
that,  convening  the  senate  afresh,  they  desired  them  to  advise 
how  they  might  best  compose  and  pacify  the  incensed  multi- 
tude by  equitable  language  and  indulgent  decrees ; since,  if 
they  wisely  considered  the  state  of  things,  they  would  find 
that  it  was  no  time  to  stand  upon  terms  of  honor  and  a mere 
point  of  glory ; such  a critical  conjuncture  called  for  gentle 
methods,  and  for  temperate  and  humane  counsels.  The 
majority,  therefore,  of  the  senators  giving  way,  the  consuls 
proceeded  to  pacify  the  people  in  the  best  manner  they  were 
able,  answering  gently  to  such  imputations  and  charges  as 
had  been  cast  upon  the  senate,  and  using  much  tenderness 
and  moderation  in  the  admonitions  and  reproofs  they  gave 
them.  On  the  point  of  the  price  of  provisions,  they  said,  there 
should  be  no  difference  at  all  between  them.  When  a great 
part  of  the  commonalty  was  grown  cool,  and  it  appeared  from 
their  orderly  and  peaceful  behavior  that  they  had  been  very 
much  appeased  by  what  they  had  heard,  the  tribunes,  stand- 
ing  up,  declared,  in  the  name  of  the  people,  that  since  the 
senate  was  pleased  to  act  soberly  and  do  them  reason,  they, 
J’kewise,  should  be  ready  to  yield  in  all  that  was  fair  and 
equitable  on  their  side ; they  must  insist,  however,  that 
Marcius  should  give  in  his  answer  to  the  several  charges  as 
follows  : first,  could  he  deny  that  he  instigated  the  senate  to 
overthrow  the  government  and  annul  the  privileges  of  the 
people  ? and,  in  the  next  place,  when  called  to  account  for  it, 
did  he  not  disobey  the  summons  ? and,  lastly,  by  the  blows 
and  other  public  affronts  to  the  ^diles,  had  he  not  done  ail 
he  could  to  commence  a civil  war. 


CORIOLANUS. 


351 

These  articles  were  brought  in  against  him,  with  a design 
either  to  humble  Marcius,  and  show  his  submission,  if,  contrary 
to  his  nature,  he  should  now  court  and  sue  the  people ; or,  if 
he  should  follow  his  natural  disposition,  which  they  rather 
expected  from  their  judgment  of  his  character,  then  that  he 
might  thus  make  the  breach  final  between  himself  and  the 
people. 

He  came,  therefore,  as  it  were,  to  make  his  apology,  and 
clear  himself  j in  which  belief  the  people  kept  silence,  and 
gave  him  a quiet  hearing.  But  when,  instead  of  the  submis- 
sive and  deprecatory  language  expected  from  him,  he  began 
to  use  not  only  an  offensive  kind  of  freedom,  seeming  rather  to 
accuse  than  apologize,  but,  as  well  by  the  tone  of  his  voice 
as  the  air  of  his  countenance,  displayed  a security  that  was 
not  far  from  disdain  and  contempt  of  them,  the  whole  multi- 
tude then  became  angry,  and  gave  evident  signs  of  impatience 
and  disgust ; and  Sicinnius,  the  most  violent  of  the  tribunes, 
after  a little  private  conference  with  his  colleagues,  proceeded 
solemnly  to  pronounce  before  them  all,  that  Marcius  was 
condemned  to  die  by  the  tribunes  of  the  people,  and  bid  the 
-^diles  take  him  to  the  Tarpeian  rock,  and  without  delay  throw 
him  headlong  from  the  precipice.  When  they,  however,  in  com- 
pliance with  the  order,  came  to  seize  upon  his  body,  many,  even 
of  the  plebeian  party,  felt  it  to  be  a horrible  and  extravagant 
act ; the  patricians,  meantime,  wholly  beside  themselves  with 
distress  and  horror,  hurried  up  with  cries  to  the  rescue ; and 
while  some  made  actual  use  of  their  hands  to  hinder  the 
arrest,  and  surrounding  Marcius,  got  him  in  among  them, 
others,  as  in  so  great  a tumult  no  good  could  be  done  by 
words,  stretched  out  theirs,  beseeching  the  multitude  that  they 
would  not  proceed  to  such  furious  extremities ; and  at  length, 
the  friends  and  acquaintance  of  the  tribunes,  wisely  perceiving 
how  impossible  it  would  be  to  carry  off  Marcius  to  punish- 
ment without  much  bloodshed  and  slaughter  of  the  nobility, 
persuaded  them  to  forbear  every  thing  unusual  and  odious  ; 
j not  to  despatch  him  by  any  sudden  violence,  or  without  reg- 
ular process,  but  refer  the  cause  to  the  general  suffrage  of  the 
people.  Sicinnius  then,  after  a little  pause,  turning  to  the 
patricians,  demanded  what  their  meaning  was,  thus  forcibly  to 
rescue  Marcius  out  of  the  people’s  hands,  as  they  were  going 
to  punish  him  ; when  it  was  replied  by  them,  on  the  other 
side,  and  the  question  put,  Rather,  how  came  it  into  your 
minds,  and  what  is  it  you  design,  thus  to  drag  one  of  the 
worthiest  men  of  Rome,  without  trial,  to  a barbarous  and 


CORIOLANUS. 


352 

illegal  execution  ?^’  Very  well/^  said  Sicinnius,  you  shall  have 
no  ground  in  this  respect  for  quarrel  or  complaint  against 
the  people  The  people  grant  your  request,  and  your  parti- 
san shall  be  tried.  We  appoint  you,  Marcius,’’  directing  his 
speech  to  him,  the  third  market-day  ensuing,  to  appear  and 
d(ifend  yourself,  and  to  try  if  you  can  satisfy  the  Roman 
citizens  of  your  innocence,  who  will  then  judge  your  case  by 
vote.’’  The  patricians  were  content  with  such  a truce  and 
lespite  for  that  time,  and  gladly  returned  home,  having  for 
the  present  brought  off  Marcius  in  safety. 

During  the  interval  before  the  appointed  time  (for  the 
Romans  hold  their  sessions  every  ninth  day,  which  from  that 
cause  are  called  nundince  in  Latin),  a war  fell  out  with  the 
Antiates,  likely  to  be  of  some  continuance,  which  gave  them 
hope  they  might  one  way  or  other  elude  the  judgment.  The 
people,  they  presumed,  would  become  tractable,  and  their  in- 
dignation lessen  and  languish  by  degrees  in  so  long  a space,  it 
occupation  and  war  did  not  wholly  put  it  out  of  their  mind.  - 
But  when,  contrary  to  expectation,  they  made  a speedy  agree- 
ment with  the  people  of  Antium,  and  the  army  came  back  to 
Rome,  the  patricians  were  again  in  great  perplexity,  and  had 
frequent  meetings  to  consider  how  things  might  be  arranged, 
without  either  abandoning  Marcius,  or  yet  giving  occasion  to 
the  popular  orators  to  create  new  disorders.  Appius  Claudius, 
whom  they  counted  among  the  senators  most  averse  to  the 
popular  interest,  made  a solemn  declaration,  and  told  them 
beforehand,  that  the  senate  would  utterly  destroy  itself  and 
betray  the  government,  if  they  should  once  suffer  the  people  to 
assume  the  authority  of  pronouncing  sentence  upon  any  of  the 
patricians ; but  the  oldest  senators  and  most  favorable  to  the 
people  maintained,  on  the  other  side,  that  the  people  would 
not  be  so  harsh  and  severe  upon  them,  as  some  were  pleased 
to  imagine,  but  rather  become  more  gentle  and  humane  upon 
the  concession  of  that  power,  since  it  was  not  contempt  c f the 
f senate,  but  the  impression  of  being  contemned  by  it  which 
made  them  pretend  to  such  a prerogative.  Let  that  be  once 
allowed  them  as  a mark  of  respect  and  kind  feeling,  and  the 
mere  possession  of  this  power  of  voting  would  at  once  dispos- 
sess them  of  their  animosity. 

When,  therefore,  Marcius  saw  that  the  senate  was  in  pain 
and  suspense  upon  his  account,  divided,  as  it  were,  betwixt 
their  kindness  for  him  and  their  apprehensions  from  the 
people,  he  desired  to  know  of  the  tribunes  what  the  crimes  were 
they  intended  to  charge  him  with,  and  what  the  heads  of  the  in- 


CORIOLAXUS. 


353 


dictment  they  would  oblige  him  to  plead  to  before  the  peo- 
ple ; and  being  told  by  them  that  he  was  to  be  impeached  for 
attempting  usurpation,  and  that  they  would  prove  him  guilty 
of  designing  to  establish  arbitrary  government,  stepping  forth 
upon  this,  “ Let  me  go  then,’’  he  said,  to  clear  iwself  from 
that  imputation  before  an  assembly  of  them ; I freely  offei 
myself  to  any  sort  of  trial,  nor  do  I refuse  any  kind  of  punish^ 
ment  whatsoever;  only,”  he  continued,  ‘‘  let  what  you  now  men- 
tion be  really  made  my  accusation,  and  do  not  you  play  false 
with  the  senate.”  On  their  consenting  to  these  terms,  he  came 
to  his  trial.  But  when  the  people  met  together,  the  tribunes, 
contrary  to  all  former  practice,  extorted  first,  that  votes  should 
])e  taken,  not  by  centuries,  but  tribes  ; a change,  by  which  the  in- 
digent and  factious  rabble,  that  had  no  respect  for  honesty  and 
justice,  would  be  sure  to  carry  it  against  those  who  were  rich  and 
well  known,  and  accustomed  to  serve  the  state  in  war.  In  the 
next  place,  v/hereas  they  had  engaged  to  prosecute  Marcius 
upon  no  other  head  but  that  of  tyranny,  which  could  never  be 
made  out  against  him,  they  relinquished  this  plea,  and  urged  in- 
stead, his  language  in  the  senate  against  an  abasement  of  the 
price  of  corn,’  and  for  the  overthrow  of  the  tribunician  power  ; 
adding  further,  as  a new  impeachment,  the  distribution  that  was 
made  by  him  of  the  spoil  and  booty  he  had  taken  from  the  An- 
tiates,  when  he  overran  their  country,  which  he  had  divided 
among  those  that  had  followed  him,  whereas  it  ought  rather  to 
have  been  brought  into  the  public  treasury  ; which  last  ac- 
cusation did,  they  say,  more  discompose  Marcius  than  all  the 
rest,  as  he  had  not  anticipated  he  should  ever  be  questioned  on 
that  subject,  and,  therefore,  was  less  provided  with  any  satis- 
factory answer  to  it  on  the  sudden.  And  when,  by  way  of  ex- 
cuse, he  began  to  magnify  the  merits  of  those  who  had  been 
partakers  with  him  in  the  action,  those  that  had  stayed  at  home, 
being  more  numerous  than  the  other,  interrupted  him  with 
outcries.  In  conclusion,  when  they  came  to  vote,  a majority 
of  three  tribes  condemned  him  ; the  penalty  being  perpetual 
banishment.  The  sentence  of  his  condemnation  being  pro- 
nounced, the  people  went  away  with  greater  triumph  and 
exultation  than  they  had  ever  shown  for  any  victory  over 
enemies ; while  the  senate  was  in  grief  and  deep  dejection, 
repenting  now  and  vexed  to  the  soul  that  they  had  not  done  and 
suffered  all  things  rather  than  give  way  to  the  insolence  of  the 
people,  and  permit  them  to  assume  and  abuse  so  great  an 
authority.  There  was  no  need  then  to  look  at  men’s  dresses, 
or  other  marks  of  distinction,  to  know  one  from  another ; any 

23 


3S4 


CORIOLANUS. 


one  who  was  glad  was,  beyond  all  doubt,  a plebeian,  any  one 
who  looked  sorrowful,  a patrician. 

Marcius  alone,  himself,  was  neither  stunned  nor  humiliated. 
In  mien,  carriage,  and  countenance,  he  bore  the  appearance  of 
en  ire  composure,  and  while  all  his  friends  were  full  of  distress^ 
seemed  the  only  man  that  was  not  touched  with  his  misfortune. 
Not  that  either  reflection  taught  him,  or  gentleness  of  temper 
made  it  natural  for  him,  to  submit : he  was  wholly  possessed, 
on  the  contrary,  with  a profound  and  deep-seated  fury,  which 
passes  with  many  for  no  pain  at  all.  And  pain,  it  is  true, 
transmuted,  so  to  say,  by  its  own  fiery  heat  into  anger,  loses 
every  appearance  of  depression  and  febleness  ; the  angry 
man  makes  a show  of  energy,  as  the  man  in  a high  fever  does 
of  natural  heat  while,  in  fact,  all  this  action  of  the  soul  is 
but  mere  diseased  palpitation,  distension,  and  inflammation. 
That  such  was  his  distempered  state  appeared  presently 
plainly  enough  in  his  actions.  On  his  return  home,  after 
saluting  his  mother  and  his  wife,  who  were  all  in  tears  and 
full  of  loud  lamentations,  and  exhorting  them  to  moderate  the 
sense  they  had  of  his  calamity,  he  proceeded  at  once  to  the 
city  gates,  whither  all  the  nobility  came  to  attend  him  ; and 
so,  not  so  much  as  taking  any  thing  with  him,  or  making  any 
request  to  the  company,  he  departed  from  them,  having  only 
three  or  four  clients  with  him.  He  continued  solitary  for  a 
few  days  in  a place  in  the  country,  distracted  with  a variety 
of  counsels,  such  as  rage  and  indignation  suggested  to  him  ; 
and  proposing  to  himself  no  honorable  or  useful  end,  but 
only  how  he  might  best  satisfy  his  revenge  on  the  Romans, 
he  resolved  at  length  to  raise  up  a heavy  war  against  them 
from  their  nearest  neighbors.  He  determined,  first  to  make 
trial  of  the  Volscians,  whom  he  knew  to  be  still  vigorous  and 
flourishing,  both  in  men  and  treasure,  and  he  imagined  their 
force  and  power  was  not  so  much  abated  as  their  spite  and 
anger  increased,  by  the  late  overthrows  they  had  received  from 
the  Romans. 

There  was  a man  of  Antium,  called  Tullus  Aufidius  who, 
for  li’s  wealth  and  bravery  and  the  splendor  of  his  family,  had 
the  respect  and  privilege  of  a king  among  the  Volscians,  but 
whom  Marcius  knew  to  have  a particular  hostility  to  himself, 
above  all  other  Romans.  Frequent  menaces  and  challenges 
had  passed  in  battle  between  them,  and  those  exchanges  of 
defiance  to  which  their  hot  and  eager  emulation  is  apt  to 
prompt  young  soldiers  had  added  private  animosity  to  their 
national  feelings  of  opposition.  Yet  for  all  this,  considering 


GORIOLANUS. 


3SS 


Tullus  to  have  a certain  generosity  of  temper,  and  knowing 
that  no  Volscian,  so  much  as  he,  desired  an  occasion  to  re- 
quite upon  the  Romans  the  evils  they  had  done,  he  did  what 
much  confirms  the  saying,  that 

Hard  and  unequal  is  with  wrath  the  strife, 

Which  makes  us  buy  its  pleasure  with  our  life. 

Putting  on  such  a dress  as  would  make  him  appear  to  any 
whom  he  might  meet  most  unlike  what  he  really  was,  like 
Ulysses, — 

The  town  he  entered  of  his  mortal  foes. 

His  arrival  at  Antium  was  about  evening,  and,  though  several 
met  him  in  the  streets,  yet  he  passed  along  without  being 
known  to  any  and  went  directly  to  the  house  of  Tullus,  and, 
entering  undiscovered,  and  went  up  to  the  fire-hearth,  and 
seated  himself  there  without  speaking  a word,  covering  up 
his  head.  Those  of  the  family  could  not  but  wonder,  and 
yet  they  were  afraid  either  to  raise  or  question  him,  for  there 
was  a certain  air  of  majesty  both  in  his  posture  and  silence, 
but  they  recounted  to  Tullus,  being  then  at  supper,  the 
strangeness  of  this  accident.  He  immediately  rose  from  table 
and  came  in,  and  asked  who  he  was,  and  for  what  business 
he  came  thither ; and  then  Marcius,  unmuffiing  himself,  and 
pausing  awhile,  ‘‘  If,”  said  he,  you  cannot  call  me  to  mind, 
Tullus,  or  do  not  believe  your  eyes  concerning  me  I must 
of  necessity  be  my  own  accuser.  I am  Caius  Marcius,  the 
author  of  so  much  mischief  to  the  Volscians  ; of  which,  were 
I seeking  to  deny  it,  the  surname  of  Coriolanus  I -^low  bear 
would  be  a sufficient  evidence  against  me.  The  one  recom- 
pense I have  received  for  all  the  hardships  and  perils  I have 
gone  through  was  the  title  that  proclaims  my  enmity  to  yout 
nation,  and  this  is  the  only  thing  which  is  still  left  me.  Of 
all  other  advantages,  I have  been  stripped  and  deprived  by 
the  envy  and  outrage  of  the  Roman  people,  and  the  cowardice 
and  treachery  of  the  magistrates  and  those  of  my  own  order. 
I am  driven  out  as  an  exile,  and  become  an  humble  suppliant 
at  your  hearth,  not  so  much  for  safety  and  protection  (should 
I have  come  hither,  had  I been  afraid  to  die  ?)  as  to  seek 
vengeance  against  those  that  expelled  me  ; which,  inethinks, 
I have  already  obtained,  by  putting  myself  into  your  hands. 
If,  therefore,  you  have  really  a mind  to  attack  your  enemies, 
come  then,  make  use  of  that  affliction  you  see  me  in  to  assist 
the  enterprise,  and  convert  my  personal  infelicity  into  a 
common  blessing  to  the  Volscians  ; as,  indeed,  I am  likely  to 
be  more  serviceable  in  fighting  for  than  against  you,  with  the 


CORIOLANUS. 


3^)6 

advantage  which  I now  possess,  of  knowing  all  the  secrets 
of  the  enemy  that  I am  attacking.  But  if  you  decline  to 
make  any  further  attempts,  I am  neither  desirous  to  live  my- 
self, nor  will  it  be  well  in  you  to  preserve  a person  who  has 
been  your  rival  and  adversary  of  old,  and  now,  when  he  offers 
you  his  service,  appears  unprofitable  and  useless  to  you/’ 

Tullus,  on  hearing  this,  was  extremely  rejoiced,  and  giv 
ing  him  his  right  hand,  exclaimed,  ‘‘  Rise,  Marcius,  and  be  ol 
good  courage  ; it  is  a great  happiness  you  bring  to  Antium, 
in  the  present  you  make  us  of  yourself ; expect  every  thing 
that  is  good  from  the  Volscians.”  He  then  proceeded  to 
feast  and  entertain  him  with  every  display  of  kindness,  and 
for  several  days  after  they  were  in  close  deliberation  together 
on  the  prospects  of  a war. 

While  this  design  was  forming,  there  were  great  troubles 
and  commotions  at  Rome,  from  the  animosity  of  the  senators 
against  the  people,  heightened  just  now  by  the  late  condem- 
nation of  Marcius.  Besides  that  their  soothsayers  and 
priests,  and  even  private  persons,  reported  signs  and  prodi- 
gies not  to  be  neglected  ; one  of  which  is  stated  to  have 
occurred  as  follows  : Titus  Latinus,  a man  of  ordinary  con- 
dition, but  of  a quiet  and  virtuous  character,  free  from  all 
superstitious  fancies,  and  yet  more  from  vanity  and  exaggera- 
tion, had  an  apparition  in  his  sleep,  as  if  Jupiter  came  and 
bade  him  tell  the  senate,  that  it  was  with  a bad  and  unac- 
ceptable dancer  that  they  had  headed  his  procession.  Hav- 
ing beheld  the  vision,  he  said,  he  did  not  much  attend  to  it  at 
the  first  appearance ; but  after  he  had  seen  and  slighted  it  a 
second  and  third  time,  he  had  lost  a hopeful  son,  and  was 
himself  struck  with  a palsy.  He  was  brought  into  the  sen- 
ate on  a litter  to  tell  this,  and  the  story  goes  that  he  had  no 
sooner  delivered  his  message  there,  but  he  at  once  felt  his 
strength  return  and  got  upon  his  legs,  and  went  home  alone 
without  need  of  any  support.  The  senators,  in  wonder  and 
surprise,  made  a diligent  search  into  the  matter.  That  which 
his  dream  alluded  to  was  this : some  citizen  had,  for  some 
heinous  offence  given  up  a servant  of  his  to  the  rest  of  his 
fellows,  with  charge  to  whip  him  first  through  the  market,  and 
then  to  kill  him  ; and  while  they  were  executing  this  com- 
mand, and  scourging  the  wretch  who  screwed  and  turned 
himself  into  all  manner  of  shapes  and  unseemly  motions, 
through  the  pain  he  was  in,  the  solemn  procession  in  honor  of 
Jupiter  chanced  to  follow  at  their  heels.  Several  of  the  at- 
tendants on  which  were,  indeed,  scandalizjsd  at  the  sight,  yet 


CORIOLANUS. 


3S7 


no  one  of  them  interfered,  or  acted  further  in  the  matter  than 
merely  to  utter  some  common  reproaches  and  execrations  on 
a master  who  inflicted  so  cruel  a punishment.  For  the 
Romans  treated  their  slaves  with  great  humanity  in  these 
times,  when,  working  and  laboring  themselves,  and  living 
together  among  them,  they  naturally  were  more  gentle  and 
familar  with  them.  It  w^as  one  of  the  severest  punishments 
for  a slave  who  had  committed  a fault  to  have  to  take  the 
piece  of  wood  which  supports  the  pole  of  a wagon,  and  carry 
it  about  through  the  neighborhood  ; a slave  who  had  once 
undergone  the  shame  of  this,  and  been  thus  seen  by  the 
household  and  the  neighbors,  had  no  longer  any  trust  or 
credit  among  them,  and  had  the  name  of  furcifer ; furca 
being  the  Latin  word  for  a prop,  or  support. 

When,  therefore,  Latinus  had  related  his  dream,  and  the 
senators  were  considering  who  this  disagreeable  and  ungainly 
dancer  could  be,  some  of  the  company,  having  been  struck 
wflth  the  strangeness  of  the  punishment,  called  to  mind  and 
mentioned  the  miserable  slave  who  was  lashed  through  the 
streets  and  afterwards  put  to  death.  The  priests,  when  con- 
sulted, confirmed  the  conjecture ; the  master  was  punished  \ 
and  orders  given  for  a new  celebration  of  the  procession  and 
the  spectacles  in  honor  of  the  god.  Numa,  in  other  respects 
also  a wise  arranger  of  religious  offices,  would  seem  to  hav^e 
been  especially  judicious  in  his  direction,  with  a view  to  the 
attentiveness  of  the  people,  that,  when  the  magistrates  or 
priests  performed  any  divine  worship,  a herald  should  go  be- 
fore, and  proclaim  with  a loud  voice.  Hoc  age^  Do  this  you 
are  about,  and  so  warn  them  to  mind  whatever  sacred  action 
they  were  engaged  in,  and  not  suffer  any  business  or  worldly 
avocation  to  disturb  and  interrupt  it ; most  of  the  things 
which  men  do  of  this  kind,,  being  in  a manner  forced  from 
them,  and  effected  by  constraint.  It  is  usual  with  the  Romans 
to  recommence  their  sacrifices  and  processions  and  specta- 
cles, not  only  upon  such  a cause  as  this,  but  for  any  slighter 
reason.  If  but  one  of  the  horses  which  drew  the  chariots 
called  Tensae,  upon  which  the  images  of  their  gods  were 
placed.,  happened  to  fail  and  falter,  or  if  the  driver  took  hold 
of  the  reins  with  his  left  hand,  they  would  decree  that  the 
whole  operation  should  commence  anew  ; and,  in  latter  ages, 
one  and  the  same  sacrifice  was  performed  thirty  times  over, 
because  of  the  occurrence  of  some  defect  or  mistake  or  acci- 
dent in  the  service.  Such  was  the  Roman  reverence  and 
caution  in  religious  matters. 


CORIOLANUS. 


35^5 

Marcius  and  Tullus  were  now  secretly  discoursing  of 
their  project  with  the  chief  men  of  Antium,  advising  them  to 
invade  the  Romans  while  they  were  at  variance  among  them- 
selves. And  when  shame  appeared  to  hinder  them  from 
embracing  the  motion,  as  they  had  sworn  to  a truce  and  cessa- 
tion of  arms  for  the  space  of  two  years,  the  Romans  themselves 
soon  furnished  them  with  a pretence,  by  making  proclamation, 
out  of  some  jealousy  or  slanderous  report,  in  the  midst  ot  the 
spectacles,  that  all  the  Volscians  who  had  come  to  see  them 
should  depart  the  city  before  sunset.  Some  affirm  that  this 
was  a contrivance  of  Marcius,  who  sent  a man  privately  to 
the  consuls,  falsely  to  accuse  the  Volscians  of  intending  to 
fall  upon  the  Romans  during  the  games,  and  to  set  the  city 
on  fire.  This  public  affront  roused  and  inflamed  their  hostil- 
ity to  the  Romans  ; and  Tullus,  perceiving  it,  made  his  ad- 
vantage of  it,  aggravating  the  fact,  and  working  on  their 
indignation,  till  he  persuaded  them,  at  last,  to  dispatch  am- 
bassadors to  Rome,  requiring  the  Romans  to  restore  that 
part  of  their  country  and  those  towns  which  they  had  taken 
from  the  Volscians  in  the  late  war.  When  the  Romans 
heard  the  message,  they  indignantly  replied,  that  the  Vol- 
scians were  the  first  that  took  up  arms,  but  the  Romans 
would  be  the  last  to  lay  them  down.  This  answer  being 
brought  back,  Tullus  called  a general  assembly  of  the  Vol- 
scians ; and  the  vote  passing  for  a war,  he  then  proposed 
that  they  should  call  in  Marcius,  laying  aside  the  remem- 
brance of  former  grudges,  and  assuring  themselves  that  the 
services  they  should  now  receive  from  him  as  a friend  and 
associate,  would  abundantly  outweigh  any  harm  or  damage  he 
had  done  them  when  he  was  their  enemy.  Marcius  was  ac- 
cordingly summoned,  and  having  made  his  entrance,  and 
spoken  to  the  people,  won  their  good  oppinion  of  his  capacity, 
his  skill,  counsel,  and  boldness,  not  less  by  his  present  words 
than  by  his  past  actions.  They  joined  him  in  commission 
with  Tullus,  to  have  full  power  as  the  general  of  their  forces 
in  all  that  related  to  the  war.  And  he,  fearing  lest  the 
time  that  would  be  requisite  to  bring  all  the  Volscians  to- 
gether in  full  preparation  might  be  so  long  as  to  lose  him  the 
opportunity  of  action,  left  order  with  the  chief  persons  and 
magistrates  of  the  city  to  provide  other  things,  while  he  him- 
self, prevailing  upon  the  most  forward  to  assemble  and 
march  out  with  him  as  volunteers  without  sta)  ing  to  be  eiv 
rolled,  made  a sudden  inroad  into  the  Roman  confines,  when 
nobody  expected  him,  and  possessed  himself  of  so  much 


CORIOLANUS. 


3S9 


booty,  that  the  Volscians  found  they  had  more  than  they 
could  either  carry  away  or  use  in  the  camp.  The  abundance 
of  provision  which  he  gained,  and  the  waste  and  havoc  of  the 
country  which  he  made,  were,  however,  of  themselves  and  in 
his  account,  the  smallest  results  of  that  invasion  ; the  great 
mischief  he  intended,  and  his  special  object  in  all,  was  to  in- 
crease at  Rome  the  suspicions  entertained  of  the  patricians, 
and  to  make  them  upon  worse  terms  with  the  people.  With 
this  view,  while  spoiling  all  the  fields  and  destroying  the 
property  of  other  men,  he  took  special  care  to  preserve  their 
farms  and  lands  untouched,  and  would  not  allow  his  soldiers 
to  ravage  there,  or  seize  upon  anything  which  belonged  to 
them.  From  hence  their  invectives  and  quarrels  against  one 
another  broke  out  afresh,  and  rose  to  a greater  height  than 
ever ; the  senators  reproaching  those  of  the  commonalty 
with  their  late  injustice  to  Marcius ; while  the  plebeians,  on 
their  side,  did  not  hesitate  to  accuse  them  of  having,  out  of 
spite  and  revenge,  solicited  him  to  this  enterprise,  and  thus, 
when  others  were  involved  in  the  miseries  of  a war  by  their 
means,  they  sat  like  unconcerned  spectators,  as  being  fur- 
nished with  a guardian  and  protector  abroad  of  their  wealth 
and  fortunes,  in  the  very  person  of  the  public  enemy.  After 
this  incursion  and  exploit,  which  was  of  great  advantage  to 
the  Volscians,  as  they  learned  by  it  to  grow  more  hardy 
and  to  contemn  their  enemy,  Marcius  drew  them  off,  and  re- 
turned in  safety. 

But  when  the  whole  strength  of  the  Volscians  was  brought 
together  in  the  field,  with  great  expedition  and  alacrity,  it  ap- 
peared so  considerable  a body,  that  they  agreed  to  leave 
part  in  garrison,  for  the  security  of  their  towns,  and  with  the 
other  part  to  march  against  the  Romans.  Marcius  now  de- 
sired Tullus  to  choose  which  of  the  two  charges  would  be 
most  agreeable  to  him.  Tullus  answered  that  since  he  knew 
Marcius  to  be  equally  valiant  with  himself,  and  far  more  for- 
tunate, he  would  have  him  take  the  command  of  those  that 
were  going  out  to  the  war  while  he  made  it  his  care  to  defend 
their  cities  at  home,  and  provide  all  conveniences  for  the 
army  abroad.  Marcius  thus  reinforced,  and  much  stronger 
than  before,  moved  first  towards  the  city  called  Circaeum,  a 
Roman  colony.  He  received  its  surrender  and  did  the  in- 
habitants no  injury;  passing  thence,  he  entered  and  laid 
waste  the  country  of  the  Latins,  where  he  expected  the  Ro- 
mans would  meet  him,  as  the  Latins  were  their  confeder 
ates  and  allies,  and  had  often  sent  to  demand  succors  from 


300 


CORIOLANUS. 


them.  The  people,  however,  on  their  part,  showing  little  in 
clination  for  the  service,  and  the  consuls  themselves  being 
unwilling  to  run  the  hazard  of  a battle,  when  the  time  of 
their  office  was  almost  ready  to  expire,  they  dismissed  the 
Latin  ambassadors  without  any  effect ; so  that  Marcius,  find- 
ing no  army  to  oppose  him  marched  up  to  their  cities,  and, 
having  taken  by  force  Toleria,  Lavici,  Peda,  and  Bola,  all  of 
which  offered  resistance,  not  only  plundered  their  houses, 
but  made  a prey  likewise  of  their  persons.  Meantime  lie 
showed  particular  regard  for  all  such  as  came  over  to  his 
party,  and,  for  fear  they  might  sustain  any  damage  against 
his  will,  encamped  at  the  greatest  distance  he  could,  and 
wholly  abstained  from  the  lands  of  their  property. 

After,  however,  that  he  had  made  himself  master  of  Bola, 
a town  not  above  ten  miles  from  Rome,  where  he  found  great 
treasure,  and  put  almost  all  the  adults  to  the  sword;  and 
when,  on  this,  the  other  Volscians  that  were  ordered  to  stay 
behind  and  protect  their  cities,  hearing  of  his  achievements 
and  success,  had  not  patience  to  remain  any  longer  at  home, 
but  came  hastening  in  their  arms  to  Marcius,  saying  that  he 
alone  was  their  general  and  the  sole  commander  they  would 
own  ; with  all  this,  his  name  and  renown  spread  throughout 
all  Italy,  and  universal  wonder  prevailed  at  the  sudden  and 
mighty  revolution  in  the  fortunes  of  two  nations  which  the 
loss  and  the  accession  of  a single  man  had  effected. 

All  at  Rome  was  in  great  disorder;  they  were  utterly 
averse  from  fighting,  and  spent  their  whole  time  in  cabals  and 
disputes  and  reproaches  against  each  other  ; until  news  was 
brought  that  the  enemy  had  laid  close  siege  to  Lavinium, 
where  were  the  images  and  sacred  things  of  their  tutelar  gods, 
and  from  whence  they  derived  the  origin  of  their  nation,  that 
being  the  first  city  which  ^neas  built  in  Italy.  These  tid- 
ings produced  a change  as  universal  as  it  was  extraordinary 
in  the  thoughts  and  inclinations  of  the  people  but  occasioned 
a yet  stranger  revulsion  of  feelings  among  the  patricians. 
The  people  now  were  for  repealing  the  sentence  against  Mar- 
cius, and  calling  him  back  into  the  city ; whereas  the  senate, 
being  assembled  to  preconsider  the  decree,  opposed  and 
finally  rejected  the  proposal,  either  out  of  the  mere  humor  of 
contradicting  and  withstanding  the  people  in  whatever  they 
should  desire,  or  because  they  were  unwilling,  perhaps,  that 
he  should  own  his  restoration  to  their  kindness ; or  having 
now  conceived  a displeasure  against  Marcius  himself,  who 
was  bringing  distress  upon  all  alike,  though  he  had  not  been 


CORIOLANUS. 


361 


ill  treated  by  all,  and  was  become  a declared  enemy  to  his 
whole  country,  though  he  knew  well  enough  that  the  princi- 
pal and  all  the  better  men  condoled  with  him  and  suffered  in 
his  injuries. 

This  resolution  of  theirs  being  made  public  the  people 
could  proceed  no  further,  having  no  authority  to  pass  any 
thing  by  suffrage,  and  enact  it  for  a law,  without  a previous 
decree  from  the  senate.  When  Marcius  heard  of  this,  he  was 
more  exasperated  than  ever,  and,  quitting  the  siege  of  La- 
vinium,  marched  furiously  towards  Rome,  and  encamped  at  a 
place  called  the  Cluilian  ditches,  about  five  miles  from  the 
city.  The  nearness  of  his  approach  did,  indeed,  create  much 
terror  and  disturbance,  yet  it  also  ended  their  dissensions  for 
the  present ; as  nobody  now,  whether  consul  or  senator,  durst 
any  longer  contradict  the  people  in  their  design  of  recalling 
Marcius  ; but,  seeing  their  women  running  affrighted  up  and 
down  the  streets,  and  the  old  men  at  prayer  in  every  temple 
with  tears  and  supplications,  and  that  in  short,  there  was  a 
general  absence  among  them  both  of  courage  and  wisdom  to 
provide  for  their  own  safety,  they  came  at  last  to  be  all  of 
one  mind,  that  the  people  had  been  in  the  right  to  propose 
as  they  did  a reconciliation  with  Marcius,  and  that  the  senate 
was  guilty  of  a fatal  error  to  begin  a quarrel  with  him  when 
it  was  a time  to  forget  offences,  and  they  should  have  studied 
rather  to  appease  him.  It  was,  therefore,  unanimously  agreed 
by  all  parties,  that  ambassadors  should  be  dispatched,  offer- 
ing him  return  to  his  country,  and  desiring  he  would  free  them 
from  the  terrors  and  distresses  of  the  war.  The  persons  sent 
by  the  senate  with  this  message  were  chosen  out  of  his  kin- 
dred and  acquaintance,  who  naturally  expected  a very  kind 
reception  at  their  first  interview,  upon  the  score  of  that  rela- 
tion and  their  old  familiarity  and  friendship  with  him  ; in 
which,  however,  they  were  much  mistaken.  Being  led  through 
the  enemy’s  camp,  they  found  him  sitting  in  state  amidst  the 
chief  men  of  the  Volscians,  looking  insupportably  proud  and 
arrogant.  He  bade  them  declare  the  cause  of  their  coming, 
which  they  did  in  the  most  gentle  and  tender  terms,  and  with 
a behavior  suitable  to  their  language.  When  they  had  made 
an  end  of  speaking,  he  returned  them  a sharp  answer,  full  of 
bitterness  and  angry  resentment,  as  to  what  concerned  him- 
self and  the  ill  usage  he  had  received  from  them  ; but  as 
general  of  the  Volscians,  he  demanded  restitution  of  the  cities 
and  the  lands  which  had  been  seized  upon  during  the  late 
war,  and  that  the  same  rights  and  franchises  should  be  grant 


362 


CORIOLANUS. 


ed  them  at  Rome,  which  had  been  before  accorded  to  the 
Latins  ; since  there  could  be  no  assurance  that  a peace  would 
be  firm  and  lasting  without  fair  and  just  conditions  on  both 
sides.  He  allowed  them  thirty  days  to  consider  and  resolve. 

The  ambassadors  being  departed,  he  withdrew  his  forces 
out  of  the  Roman  territory.  This,  those  of  the  Volscians 
who  had  long  envied  his  reputation,  and  could  not  endure  to 
see  the  influence  he  had  with  the  people,  laid  hold  of,  as  the 
first  matter  of  complaint  against  him.  Among  them  was 
also  Tullus  himself,  not  for  any  wrong  done  him  personally 
by  Marcius,  but  through  the  weakness  incident  to  human  na- 
ture. He  could  not  help  feeling  mortified  to  find  his  own 
glory  thus  totally  obscured,  and  himself  overlooked  and  neg- 
lected now  by  the  Volscians,  who  had  so  great  an  opinion  of 
their  new  leader,  that  he  alone  was  all  to  them,  while  other 
captains,  they  thought,  should  be  content  with  that  share 
of  power,  which  he  might  think  fit  to  accord.  From  hence 
the  first  seeds  of  complaint  and  accusation  were  scattered 
about  in  secret,  and  the  malcontents  met  and  heightened  each 
other’s  indignation,  saying,  that  to  retreat  as  he  did,  was  in 
effect  to  betray  and  deliver  up,  though  not  their  cities  and 
their  arms,  yet  what  was  as  bad,  the  critical  times  and  op- 
portunities for  action,  on  which  depend  the  preservation  or 
the  loss  of  every  thing  else;  since  in  less  than  thirty  days* 
space,  for  which  he  had  given  a respite  from  the  war,  there 
might  happen  the  greatest  changes  in  the  world.  Yet  Mar- 
cius spent  not  any  part  of  the  time  idly,  but  attacked  the 
confederates  of  the  enemy,  ravaged  their  land,  and  took  from 
them  seven  great  and  populous  cities  in  that  interval.  The 
Romans,  in  the  meanwhile,  durst  not  venture  out  to  their  re- 
lief ; but  were  utterly  fearful,  and  showed  no  more  disposi- 
tion or  capacity  for  action,  than  if  their  bodies  had  been 
struck  with  a palsy,  and  become  destitute  of  sense  and  mo- 
tion. But  when  the  thirty  days  were  expired^  and  Marcius 
appeared  again  with  his  whole  army,  they  sent  another  em^ 
bassy  to  beseech  him  that  he  would  moderate  his  displeasure 
and  would  withdraw  the  Volscian  army,  and  then  make  any 
proposals  he  thought  best  for  both  parties ; the  Romans 
would  make  no  concessions  to  ruenaces,  but  if  it  were  his 
opinion  that  the  Volscians  ought  to  have  any  favor  shown 
them,  upon  laying  down  their  arms  they  might  obtain  all  they 
could  in  reason  desire. 

The  reply  of  Marcius  was,  that  he  should  make  no  an- 
swer to  this  as  general  of  the  Volscians,  but,  in  the  quality 


CORIOLANUS. 


363 


still  of  a Rom?.n  citizen,  he  would  advise  and  exhort  them, 
as  the  case  stood,  not  to  carry  it  so  high,  but  think  rather  of 
just  compliance,  and  return  to  him,  before  three  days  were 
at  an  end,  with  a ratification  of  his  previous  demands  ; other- 
wise, they  must  understand  that  they  could  not  have  any 
further  freedom  of  passing  through  his  camp  upon  idle  er- 
rands. 

When  the  ambassadors  were  come  back,  and  had  ac- 
quainted the  senate  with  the  answer,  seeing  the  whole  state 
now  threatened  as  it  were  by  a tempest,  and  the  waves  ready 
to  overwhelm  them,  they  were  forced,  as  we  say  in  extreme 
perils,  to  let  down  the  sacred  anchor.  A decree  was  made, 
that  the  whole  order  of  their  priests,  those  who  initiated  in 
the  mysteries  or  had  the  custody  of  them,  and  those  who,  ac- 
cording to  the  ancient  practice  of  the  country,  divined  from 
birds,  should  all  and  every  one  of  them  go  in  full  procession 
to  Marcius  with  their  pontifical  array,  and  the  dress  and  habit 
which  they  respectively  used  in  their  several  functions,  and 
should  urge  him,  as  before,  to  withdraw  his  forces,  and  then 
treat  with  his  countrymen  in  favor  of  the  Volscians.  He  con- 
sented so  far,  indeed,  as  to  give  the  deputation  an  admittance 
into  his  camp,  but  granted  nothing  at  all,  nor  so  much  as  ex- 
pres^d  himself  more  mildly;  but  without  capitulating  or  re- 
ceding, bade  them  once  for  all  choose  whether  they  would 
yield  or  fight,  since  the  old  terms  were  the  only  terms  of  peace. 
When  this  solemn  application  proved  ineffectual,  the  priests, 
too,  returning  unsuccessful,  they  determined  to  sit  still  within 
the  city,  and  keep  watch  about  their  walls,  intending  only  to 
repulse  the  enemy,  should  he  offer  to  attack  them,  and  plac- 
ing their  hopes  chiefly  in  time  and  in  extraordinary  accidents 
of  fortune  ; as  to  themselves,  they  felt  incapable  of  doing 
any  thing  for  their  own  deliverance  ; mere  confusion  and 
terror  and  ill-boding  reports  possessed  the  whole  city ; till  af 
last  a thing  happened  not  unlike  what  we  so  often  find  repre 
sented,  without,  however,  being  accepted  as  true  by  people  ir 
general,  in  Homer.  On  some  great  and  unusual  occasion  w( 
find  him  say: — 

But  him  the  blue-eyed  goddess  did  inspire ; 
and  elsewhere : — 

But  some  immortal  turned  my  mind  away, 

To  think  what  others  of  the  deed  would  say; 

and  again : 

Were’t  his  own  thought  or  were't  a god’s  command. 


3^4 


CORIOLANUS. 


People  are  apt,  in  such  passages,  to  censure  and  disregard 
the  poet,  as  if,  by  the  introduction  of  mere  impossibilities  and 
idle  fictions,  he  were  denying  the  action  of  a man’s  own  delib 
erate  thought  and  free  choice  ; which  is  not,  in  the  least, 
the  case  in  Homer’s  representation,  where  the  ordinary,  prob- 
able, and  habitual  conclusions  that  common  reason  leads  to 
are  continually  ascribed  to  our  own  direct  agency.  He  cer- 
tainly says  frequently  enough  : — 

But  I consulted  with  my  own  great  soul ; 
or,  as  in  another  passage  : — 

He  spoke.  Achilles,  with  quick  pain  possessed^ 

Resolved  two  purposes  in  his  strong  breast ; 

and  in  a third  : — 

— Yet  never  to  her  wishes  won 

The  just  mind  of  the  brave  Bellerophon. 

But  where  the  act  is  something  out  of  the  way  and  ex- 
traordinary, and  seems  in  a manner  to  demand  some  impulse 
of  divine  possession  and  sudden  inspiration  to  ac^unt  for  it, 
here  he  does  introduce  divine  agency,  not  to  destroy,  but  to 
prompt  the  human  will ; not  to  create  in  us  another  agency, 
but  offering  images  to  stimulate  our  own ; images  that  in  no 
sort  or  kind  make  our  action  involuntary,  but  give  oc(?asion 
rather  to  spontaneous  action,  aided  and  sustained  by  feelings 
of  confidence  and  hope.  For  either  we  must  totally  dismiss 
and  exclude  divine  influences  from  every  kind  of  causality 
and  origination  in  what  we  do,  or  else  what  other  way  can 
we  conceive  in  which  divine  aid  and  co-operation  can  act? 
Certainly  we  cannot  suppose  that  the  divine  beings  actually 
and  literally  turn  our  bodies  and  direct  our  hands  and  our 
feet  this  way  or  that,  to  do  what  is  right : it  is  obvious  that 
they  must  actuate  the  practical  and  elective  element  of  our 
nature,  by  certain  initial  occasions,  by  images  presented  to 
the  imagination,  and  thoughts  suggested  to  the  mind,  such 
either  as  to  excite  it  to,  or  avert  and  withhold  it  from,  any 
particular  course. 

In  the  perplexity  which  I have  described,  the  Roman 
women  went,  some  to  other  temples,  but  the  greater  part,  and 
the  ladies  of  highest  rank,  to  the  altar  of  Jupiter  Capitolinus  : 
Among  these  suppliants  was  Valeria,  sister  to  the  great  Pop- 
licola,  who  did  the  Romans  eminent  service  both  in  peace 
and  war.  Poplicola  himself  was  now  deceased,  as  is  told  in 
the  history  of  his  life  ; but  Valeria  lived  still,  and  enjoyed 


CORIOLANUS. 


365 

great  respect  and  honor  at  Rome,  her  life  and  conduct  no 
way  disparaging  her  birth.  She,  suddenly  seized  with  the 
sort  of  instinct  or  emotion  of  mind  which  I have  described, 
and  happily  lighting,  not  without  divine  guidance,  on  the  right 
expedient,  both  rose  herself,  and  bade  the  others  rise,  and 
went  directly  with  them  to  the  house  of  Volumnia,  the  mother 
^ of  Marcius.  And  coming  in  and  finding  her  sitting  with 
her  daughter-in-law,  and  with  her  little  grandchildren  on  her 
lap,  Valeria,  then  surrounded  by  her  female  companions, 
spoke  in  the  name  of  them  all : — 

“ We  that  now  make  our  appearance,  O Volumnia,  and 
you,  Vergilia,  are  come  as  mere  women  to  women,  not  by 
direction  of  the  senate,  or  an  order  from  the  consuls,  or  the 
appointment  of  any  other  magistrate  ; but  the  divine  being 
himself,  as  I conceive,  moved  to  compassion  by  our  prayers, 
prompted  us  to  visit  you  in  a body,  and  request  a thing  on 
which  our  own  and  the  common  safety  depends,  and  which, 
if  you  consent  to  it,  will  raise  your  glory  above  that  of  the 
daughters  of  the  Sabines,  who  won  over  their  fathers  and 
their  husbands  from  mortal  enmity  to  peace  and  friendship. 
Arise  and  come  with  us  to  Marcius  ; join  in  our  supplication, 
and  bear  for  your  country  this  true  and  just  testimony  on  her 
behalf : that,  notwithstanding  the  many  mischiefs  that  have 
been  done  her,  yet  she  has  never  outraged  you,  nor  so  much 
as  thought  of  treating  you  ill,  in  all  her  resentment,  but  does 
now  restore  you  safe  into  his  hands,  though  there  be  small 
likelihood  she  should  obtain  from  him  any  equitable  terms.’’ 

The  words  of  Valeria  were  seconded  by  the  acclamations 
of  the  other  women,  to  which  Volumnia  made  answer : — 

“ I and  Vergilia,  my  countrywomen,  have  an  equal  share 
with  you  all  in  the  common  miseries,  and  we  have  the  addi- 
tional sorrow,  which  is  wholly  ours,  that  we  have  lost  the  mer- 
it and  good  fame  of  Marcius,  and  see  his  person  confined, 
rather  than  protected,  by  the  arms  of  the  enemy.  Yet  I ac- 
count this  the  greatest  of  all  misfortunes,  if  indeed  the  affairs 
of  Rome  be  sunk  to  so  feeble  a state  as  to  have  their  last 
dependence  upon  us.  For  it  is  hardly  imaginable  he  should 
have  any  consideration  left  for  us,  when  he  has  no  regard  for 
the  country  which  he  was  wont  to  prefer  before  his  mother 
and  wife  and  children.  Make  use,  however,  of  our  service; 
and  lead  us,  if  you  please,  to  him  ; we  are  able,  if  nothing 
more,  at  least  to  spend  our  last  breath  in  making  suit  to  him 
for  our  country.” 

Having  spoken  thus,  she  took  Vergilia  by  the  hand,  and 


366 


CORIOLANUS. 


the  young  children,  and  so  accompanied  them  to  the  Volscian 
camp.  So  lamentable  a sight  much  affected  the  enemies 
themselves,  who  viewed  them  in  respectful  silence.  Marcius 
was  then  sitting  in  his  place,  with  his  chief  officers  about  him, 
and,  seeing  the  party  of  women  advance  toward  them,  won- 
dered what  should  be  the  matter ; but  perceiving  at  length 
that  his  mother  was  at  the  head  of  them,  he  w^ould  fain  have 
hardened  himself  in  his  former  inexorable  temper,  but,  over- 
come by  his  feelings,  and  confounded  at  what  he  saw,  he  did 
not  endure  the)^  should  approach  him  sitting  in  state,  but 
came  down  hastily  to  meet  them,  saluting  his  mother  first, 
and  embracing  her  a long  time,  and  then  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren, sparing  neither  tears  nor  caresses,  but  suffering  him- 
self to  be  borne  away  and  carried  headlong,  as  it  were,  by 
the  impetuous  violence  of  his  passion. 

When  he  oad  satisfied  himself,  and  observed  that  his 
mother  Volumma  was  desirous  to  say  something,  the  Volscian 
council  being  tiiii  called  in  he  heard  her  to  the  following  ef- 
fect : “ Our  dress  and  our  very  persons,  my  son,  might  tell 
you,  though  we  should  say  nothing  ourselves,  in  how  forlorn 
a condition  we  have  lived  at  home  since  your  banishment  and 
absence  from  us  ; <d  now  consider  with  yourself,  whether 
we  may  not  pass  foi  the  most  unfortunate  of  all  women,  to 
have  that  sight,  wdiit  (i  should  be  the  sweetest  that  we  could 
see,  converted,  throi  fh  I know  not  what  fatality,  to  one  of 
all  others  the  most  formidable  and  dreadful, — Volumnia  to 
behold  her  son,  and  Vergilia  her  husband,  in  arms  against 
the  walls  of  Rome.  Even  prayer  itself,  whence  others  gain 
comfort  and  relief  ir  all  manner  of  misfortunes,  is  that  which 
most  adds  to  our  confusion  and  distress  ; since  our  best 
wishes  are  inconsistent  with  themselves,  nor  can  we  at  the 
same  time  petition  the  gods  for  Rome’s  victory  and  your  pres- 
ervation, but  what  the  worst  of  our  enemies  would  imprecate 
as  a curse,  is  the  very  object  of  our  vows.  Your  wife  and 
children  are  under  the  sad  necessity,  that  they  must  either  be 
deprived  of  you,  or  of  their  native  soil.  As  for  myself,  I am 
resolved  not  to  wait  till  war  shall  determine  this  alternative 
for  me  ; but  if  I cannot  prevail  with  you  to  prefer  amity  and 
concord  to  quarrel  and  hostility,  and  to  be  the  benefactor  to 
both  parties,  rather  than  the  destroyer  of  one  of  them,  be 
assured  of  this  from  me,  and  reckon  steadfastly  upon  it,  that 
you  shall  not  be  able  to  reach  your  countr}%  unless  you  tram- 
ple first  upon  the  corpse  of  her  that  brought  you  into  life. 
For  it  will  be  ill  in  me  to  wait  and  loiter  in  the  world  till  the 


CORIOLANUS. 


day  come  wherein  I shall  see  a child  of  mine,  either  led  in 
triumph  by  his  own  countrymen,  or  triumphing  over  them. 
Did  I require  you  to  save  your  country  by  ruining  the  Vo^ 
scians,  then,  I confess,  my  son,  the  case  would  be  hard  for 
you  to  solve.  It  is  base  to  bring  destitution  on  our  fellow- 
citizens  ; it  is  unjust  to  betray  those  who  have  placed  their 
confidence  in  us.  But,  as  it  is,  we  do  but  desire  a deliverance 
equally  expedient  for  them  and  us ; only  more  glorious  and 
honorable  on  the  Volscian  side,  who,  as  superior  in  arms,  will 
be  thought  freely  to  bestow  the  two  greatest  of  blessings^ 
peace  and  friendship,  even  when  they  themselves  receive  the 
same.  If  we  obtain  these,  the  common  thanks  will  be  chiefly 
due  to  you  as  the  principal  cause ; but  if  they  be  not  granted, 
you  alone  must  expect  to  bear  the  blame  from  both  nations. 
The  chance  of  all  war  is  uncertain,  yet  thus  much  is  certain 
in  the  present,  that  you,  by  conquering  Rome,  will  only  get 
the  reputation  of  having  undone  your  country  ; but  if  the  Yol- 
scians  happen  to  be  defeated  under  your  conduct,  then  the 
world  will  say,  that,  to  satisfy  a revengeful  humor,  you  brought 
misery  on  your  friends  and  patrons.’’ 

Marcius  listened  to  his  mother  while  she  spoke,  without 
answering  her  a word  ; and  Volumnia,  seeing  him  stand  mute 
also  for  a long  time  after  she  had  ceased,  resumed : ‘‘  O my 
son,”  said  she,  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  silence  ? Is  it  a 
duty  to  postpone  every  thing  to  a sense  of  injuries,  and  wrong 
to  gratify  a mother  in  a request  like  this  ? Is  it  the  charac- 
teristic of  a great  man  to  remember  wrongs  that  have  been 
done  him,  and  not  the  part  of  a great  and  good  man  to  re- 
member benefits  such  as  those  that  children  receive  from 
parents,  and  to  requite  them  with  honor  and  respect  ? You, 
methinks,  who  are  so  relentless  in  the  punishment  of  the  un- 
grateful, should  not  be  more  careless  than  others  to  be  grate- 
ful yourself.  You  have  punished  your  country  already  ; you 
have  not  yet  paid  your  debt  to  me.  Nature  and  religion, 
surely,  unattended  by  any  constraint,  should  have  won  your 
consent  to  petitions  so  worthy  and  so  just  as  these  ; but  if  it 
must  be  so,  I will  even  use  my  last  resource.”  Having  said 
this,  she  threw  herself  down  at  his  feet,  as  did  also  his  wif^i 
and  children ; upon  which  Marcius,  crying  out,  “ O mothei  ! 
what  is  it  you  have  done  to  me !”  raised  her  up  from  the 
ground,  and  pressing  her  right  hand  witlinmore  than  ordinary 
vehemence,  “ You  have  gained  a victory,”  said  he,  ‘‘fortunate 
enough  for  the  Romans,  but  destructive  to  your  son  ; whom 
you,  though  none  else,  have  defeated.”  After  which,  and  a 


368 


CORIOLAXUS. 


little  private  conference  with  his  mother  and  his  wife,  he  sent 
them  back  again  to  Rome,  as  they  desired  of  him. 

The  next  morning,  he  broke  up  his  camp,  and  led  the  Vob 
scians  homeward,  variously  affected  with  what  he  had  done  ; 
some  of  them  complaining  of  him  and  condemning  his  act, 
others,  who  were  inclined  to  a peaceful  conclusion,  unfavor- 
able to  neither.  A third  party,  while  much  disliking  his  pro- 
ceedings, yet  could  not  look  upon  Marcius  as  a treacherous 
person,  but  thought  it  pardonable  in  him  to  be  thus  shaken 
and  driven  to  surrender  at  last,  under  such  compulsion 
None,  however,  opposed  his  commands  ; they  all  obedientl}^ 
followed  him,  though  rather  from  admiration  of  his  virtue, 
than  any  regard  they  now  had  to  his  authority.  The  Roman 
people,  meantime,  more  effectually  manifested  how  much  fear 
and  danger  they  had  been  in  while  the  war  lasted,  by  their  de- 
portment after  they  were  freed  from  it.  Those  that  guarded 
the  walls  had  no  sooner  given  notice  that  the  Volscians  were 
dislodged  and  drawn  off,  but  they  set  open  all  their  temples 
in  a moment,  and  began  to  crown  themselves  with  garlands 
and  prepare  for  sacrifice,  as  they  were  wont  to  do  upon  tid- 
ings brought  of  any  signal  victory.  But  the  joy  and  trans- 
port of  the  whole  city  was  chiefly  remarkable  in  the  honors 
and  marks  of  affection  paid  to  the  women,  as  well  by  the  sen- 
ate as  the  people  in  general  ; every  one  declaring  that  they 
were,  beyond  all  question,  the  instruments  of  the  public  safe- 
ty. And  the  senate  having  passed  a decree  that  whatsoever 
they  would  ask  in  the  way  of  any  favor  or  honor  should  be  al- 
lowed and  done  for  them  by  the  magistrates,  they  demanded 
simply  that  a temple  might  be  erected  to  Female  Fortune,  the 
expense  of  which  they  offered  to  defray  out  of  their  own  con- 
tributions, if  the  city  would  be  at  the  cost  of  sacrifices,  and 
other  matters  pertaining  to  the  due  honor  of  the  gods,  out  of 
the  common  treasury.  The  senate,  much  commending  their 
public  spirit,  caused  the  temple  to  be  built  and  a statue  set 
np  in  it  at  the  public  charge  ; they,  however,  made  up  a sum 
among  themselves,  for  a second  image  of  Fortune,  which  the 
Romans  say  uttered,  as  it  was  putting  up,  words  to  this  effect, 
“ Blessed  of  the  gods,  O women,  is  your  gift.’’ 

These  words  they  profess  were  repeated  a second  time, 
expecting  our  belief  for  what  seems  pretty  nearly  an  impossi- 
bility. It  may  be  pyossible  enough,  that  statues  may  seem  to 
sweat,  and  to  run  with  tears,  and  to  stand  with  certain  dewy 
drops  of  a sanguine  color  ; for  timber  and  stones  are  frequent- 
ly known  to  contract  a kind'of  scurf  and  rottenness,  produc- 


CURIOLANUS. 


369 


tive  of  moisture  ; and  various  tints  may  form  on  the  surfaces, 
both  from  within  and  from  the  action  of  the  air  outside ; and 
by  these  signs  it  is  not  absurd  to  imagine  that  the  deity  may 
forewarn  us.  It  may  happen,  also,  that  images  and  statues 
may  sometimes  make  a noise  not  unlike  that  of  a moan  or 
groan,  through  a rupture  or  violent  internal  separation  of  the 
parts  ; but  that  an  articulate  voice,  and  such  express  words, 
and  language  so  clear  and  exact  and  elaborate,  should  pro- 
ceed from  inanimate  things,  is,  in  my  judgment,  a thing  utter- 
ly out  of  possibility.  For  it  was  never  known  that  either  the 
soul  of  man,  or  the  deity  himself,  uttered  vocal  sounds  and 
language,  alone,  without  an  organized  body  and  members  fit- 
ted for  speech.  But  where  history  seems  in  a manner  to  force 
our  tssent  by  the  concurrence  of  numerous  and  credible  wit- 
nesses, we  are  to  conclude  that  an  impression  distinct  from 
sensation  affects  the  imaginative  part  of  our  nature,  and  then 
carries  away  the  judgment,  so  as  to  believe  it  to  be  a sensa- 
tion ; just  as  in  sleep  we  fancy  we  see  and  hear,  without  really 
doing  either.  Persons,  however,  whose  strong  feelings  of 
reverence  to  the  deity,  and  tenderness  for  religion,  will  not 
allow  them  to  deny  or  invalidate  any  thing  of  this  kind,  have 
certainly  a strong  argument  for  their  faith,  in  the  wonderful 
and  transcendent  character  of  the  divine  power  ; which  admits 
no  manner  of  comparison  with  ours,  either  in  its  nature  or  its 
action,  the  modes  or  the  strength  of  its  operations.  It  is  no 
contradiction  to  reason  that  it  should  do  things  that  we  can- 
not do,  and  effect  what  for  us  is  impracticable  : differing  from 
us  in  all  respects,  in  its  acts  yet  more  than  in  other  points  we 
may  well  believe  it  to  be  unlike  us  and  remote  from  us. 
Knowledge  of  divine  things  for  the  most  part,  as  Heraclitus 
says,  is  lost  to  us  by  incredulity. 

When  Marcius  came  back  to  Antium,  Tullus,  who  thor- 
oughly hated  and  greatly  feared  him,  proceeded  at  once  to 
contrive  how  he  might  immediately  despatch  him,  as,  if  he 
escaped  now,  he  was  never  likely  to  give  him  such  another 
advantage.  Having,  therefore,  got  together  and  subori  ed 
several  partisans  against  him,  he  required  Marcius  to  rer  ign 
his  charge,  and  give  the  Volscians  an  account  of  his  adminis* 
tration.  He  apprehending  the  danger  of  a private  condition 
wlfile  Tullus  held  the  office  of  general  and  exercised  the 
greatest  power  among  his  fellow-citizens,  made  answer,  that 
he  was  ready  to  lay  down  his  commission,  whenever  those 
from  whose  common  authority  he  had  received  it,  should 
think  fit  to  recall  it,  and  that  in  the  mean  time  he  was  ready 


370 


CORIOLANUS. 


to  give  the  Antiates  satisfaction,  as  to  all  particulars  of  his 
conduct,  if  they  were  desirous  of  it. 

An  assembly  was  called,  and  popular  speakers,  as  had 
been  concerted,  came  forward  to  exasperate  arid  incense  the 
multitude ; but  when  Marcius  stood  up  to  answer,  the  more 
unruly  and  tumultuous  part  of  the  people  became  quiet  on  a 
sudden,  and  out  of  reverence  allowed  him  to  speak  without 
the  least  disturbance ; while  all  the  better  people,  and  such  as 
were  satisfied  with  a peace,  made  it  evident  by  their  whole 
behavior,  that  they  would  give  him  a favorable  hearing,  and 
judge  and  pronounce  according  to  equity. 

Tullus,  therefore,  began  to  dread  the  issue  of  the  defence 
he  was  going  to  make  for  himself ; for  he  was  an  admirable 
speaker,  and  the  former  services  he  had  done  the  Vol5:ians 
had  procured  and  still  preserved  for  him  greater  kindness 
than  could  be  outweighed  by  any  blame  for  his  late  conduct. 
Indeed,  the  very  accusation  itself  was  a proof  and  testimony 
of  the  greatness  of  his  merits,  since  people  could  never  have 
complained  or  thought  themselves  wronged,  because  Rome 
was  not  brought  into  their  power,  but  that  by  his  means  they 
had  come  so  near  to  taking  it.  For  these  reasons,  the  con- 
spirators judged  it  prudent  not  to  make  any  further  delays, 
nor  to  test  the  general  feeling  ; but  the  boldest  of  their  faction, 
crying  out  that  they  ought  not  to  listen  to  a traitor,  nor  allow 
him  still  to  retain  office  and  play  the  tyrant  among  them,  fell 
upon  Marcius  in  a body,  and  slew  him  there,  none  of  those 
that  were  present  offering  to  defend  him.  But  it  quicklv 
appeared  that  the  action  was  in  nowise  approved  by  the  ma- 
jority of  the  Volscians,  who  hurried  out  of  their  several  cities 
to  show  respect  to  his  corpse  ; to  which  they  gave  honorable 
interment,  adorning  his  sepulchre  with  arms  and  trophies,  as 
the  monument  of  a nobleliero  and  a famous  general.  When 
the  Romans  heard  tidings  of  his  death,  they  gave  no  other 
signification  either  of  honor  or  of  anger  towards  him,  but 
simply  granted  the  request  of  the  women,  that  they  might  put 
themselves  into  mourning  and  bewail  him  for  ten  months,  as 
the  usage  was  upon  the  loss  of  a father  or  a son  or  a brother ; 
that  being  the  period  fixed  for  the  longest  lamentation  by  the 
laws  of  Numa  Pompilius,  as  is  more  amply  told  in  the  account 
of  him. 

Marcius  was  no  sooner  deceased,  but  the  Volscians  felt 
the  need  of  his  assistance.  They  quarrelled  first  with  the 
.^quians,  their  confederates  and  their  friends,  about  the  ap- 
pointment of  the  general  of  their  Joint  forces,  and  carried  their 


ALCIBIADES  AND  CORIOLANUS. 


371 

dispute  to  the  length  of  bloodshed  and  slaughter  ; and  were 
then  defeated  by  the  Romans  in  a pitched  battle,  where  not 
only  Tullus  lost  his  life,  but  the  principal  flower  of  their  whole 
army  was  cut  in  pieces  ; so  that  they  were  forced  to  submit 
and  accept  of  peace  upon  very  dishonorable  terms,  becoming 
subjects  of  Rome,  and  pledging  themselves  to  submission. 


COMPARISON  OF  ALCIBIADES 
WITH  CORIOLANUS. 


Having  described  all  their  actions  that  seem  to  deserve 
commemoration,  their  military  ones,  we  may  say,  incline  the 
balance  very  decidedly  upon  neither  side.  They  both,  in 
pretty  equal  measure,  displayed  on  numerous  occasions  the 
daring  and  courage  of  the  soldier,  and  the  skill  and  foresight 
of  the  general ; unless,  indeed,  the  fact  that  Alcibiades  was 
victorious  and  successful  in  many  contests  both  by  sea  and 
land,  ought  to  gain  him  the  title  of  a more  complete  com- 
mander. That  so  long  as  they  remained  and  held  command 
in  their  respective  countries,  they  eminently  sustained,  and 
when  they  were  driven  into  exile,  yet  more  eminently  damaged 
the  fortunes  of  those  countries,  is  common  to  both.  All  the 
sober  citizens  felt  disgust  at  the  petulance,  the  low  flattery, 
and  base  seductions  which  Alcibiades,  in  his  public  life, 
allowed  himself  to  employ  with  the  view  of  winning  the  people’s 
favor  ; and  the  ungraciousness,  pride,  and  oligarchical  haughti- 
ness which  Marcius,  on  the  other  hand,  displayed  in  his,  were 
the  abhorrence  of  the  Roman  populace.  Neither  of  these 
courses  can  be  called  commendable ; but  a man  who  ingra- 
tiates himself  by  indulgence  and  flattery,  is  hardly  so  censura* 
ble  as  one  who,  to  avoid  the  appearance  of  flattering,  insults. 
To  seek  power  by  servility  to  the  people  is  a disgrace,  but  to 
maintain  it  by  terror,  violence,  and  oppression,  is  not  a disgrace 
only,  but  an  injustice. 

Marcius,  according  to  our  common  conceptions  of  his 
character,  was  undoubtedly  simple  and  straightforward  ; Alci- 
biades, unscrupulous  as  a public  man,  and  false.  He  is  more 
especially  blamed  for  the  dishonorable  and  treacherous  way 
in  which,  as  Tliucydides  relates,  he  imposed  upon  the  Lacedae- 
monian ambassadors,  and  disturbed  tlic  continuance  of  the 
peace.  Vet  this  policy,  which  engaged  the  city  again  in  war, 


372 


ALCIBIADES  AND  CORIOLANUS. 


nevertheless  placed  it  in  a powerful  and  formidable  position, 
by  the  accession,  which  Alcibiades  obtained  for  it,  of  the 
alliance  of  Argos  and  Mantinea.  And  Coriolanus  also 
Dionysius  relates,  used  unfair  means  to  excite  war  between 
the  Romans  and  the  Volscians,  in  the  false  report  which  he 
spread  about  the  visitors  at  the  Games  ; and  the  motive  of 
this  action  seems  to  make  it  the  worse  of  the  two  ; since  it 
was  not  done,  like  the  other,  out  of  ordinary  political  jealousy, 
strife,  and  competition.  Simply  to  gratify  anger  from  which, 
as  Ion  says,  no  one  ever  yet  got  any  return,  he  threw  whole 
districts  of  Italy  into  confusion,  and  sacrificed  to  his  passion 
against  his  country  numerous  innocent  cities.  " It  is  true, 
indeed,  that  Alcibiades  also,  by  his  resentment,  was  the  oc- 
casion of  great  disasters  to  his  country,  but  he  relented  as 
soon  as  he  found  their  feelings  to  be  changed ; and  after  he 
was  driven  out  a second  time,  so  far  from  taking  pleasure  in 
the  errors  and  inadvertencies  of  their  commanders,  or  being 
indifferent  to  the  danger  they  were  thus  incurring,  he  did  the 
very  thing  that  Aristides  is  so  highl}’  commended  for  doing  to 
Theinistocles  ; he  came  to  the  generals  who  were  his  enemies, 
and  pointed  out  to  them  what  they  ought  to  do.  Coriolanus, 
on  the  other  hand,  first  of  all  attacked  the  whole  body  of  his 
countrymen,  though  only  one  portion  of  them  had  done  him 
any  wrong,  while  the  other,  the  better  and  nobler  portion,  had 
actually  suffered,  as  well  as  sympathized,  with  him.  And, 
secondly,  by  the  obduracy  with  which  he  resisted  numerous 
embassies  and  supplications,  addressed  in  propitiation  of  his 
single  anger  and  offence,  he  showed  that  it  had  been  to  destroy 
and  overthrow,  not  to  recover  and  regain  his  country,  that  he 
had  excited  bitter  and  implacable  hostilities  against  it.  There 
is,  indeed,  one  distinction  that  may  be  drawn.  Alcibiades,  it 
may  be  said,  was  not  safe  among  the  Spartans,  and  had  the 
inducements  at  once  of  fear  and  of  hatred  to  lead  him  again 
to  Athens  ; whereas  Marcius  could  not  honorably  have  left 
the  Volscians,  when  they  were  behaving  so  well  to  him  : he, 
in  the  command  of  their  forces  and  the  enjoyment  of  theii 
%ntire  confidence,  was  in  a very  different  position  from  Alcb 
biades,  whom  the  Lacedaemonians  did  not  so  much  wish  to 
adopt  into  their  service,  as  to  use,  and  then  abandon.  Driven 
about  from  house  to  house  in  the  city,  and  from  general  to 
general  in  the  camp,  the  latter  had  no  resort  but  to  place 
himself  in  the  hands  of  Tisaphernes  ; unless,  indeed,  we  are  to 
suppose  that  his  object  in  courting  favor  with  him  was  to  avert 
the  entire  destruction  of  his  native  city,  whither  he  wished  him- 
self to  return. 


ALCIBIADES  AND  CORIOLANUS. 


373 


As  regards  money,  Alcibiades,  we  are  told,  was  often 
guilty  of  procuring  it  by  accepting  bribes,  and  spent  it  ill  in 
luxuiy  and  dissipation.  Coriolanus  declined  to  receive  it, 
even  when  pressed  upon  him  by  his  commanders  as  an  honor  j 
and  one  great  reason  for  the  odium  he  incurred  with  the 
populace  in  the  discussions  about  their  debts  was,  that  he 
trampled  upon  the  poor,  not  for  money’s  sake,  but  out  of 
pride  and  insolence. 

Antipater,  in  a letter  written  upon  the  death  of  Aristotle 
tlie  philosopher,  observes,  ‘‘  Amongst  his  other  gifts  he  had 
that  ot  persuasiveness  and  the  absence  of  this  in  the 
character  of  Marcius  made  all  his  great  actions  and  noble 
qualities  unacceptable  to  those  whom  they  benefited : pride, 
and  self-will,  the  consort,  as  Plato  calls  it,  of  solitude,  made 
him  insufferable.  With  the  skill  which  Alcibiades,  on  the 
contrary,  possessed  to  treat  every  one  in  the  way  most  agree- 
able to  him,  we  cannot  wonder  that  all  his  successes  were 
attended  with  the  most  exuberant  favor  and  honor ; his  very 
errors,  at  times,  being  accompanied  by  something  of  grace 
and  felicity.  And  so  in  spite  of  great  and  frequent  hurt  that 
he  had  done  the  city,  he  was  repeatedly  appointed  to  office 
and  command  ; while  Coriolanus  stood  in  vain  for  a place 
which  his  great  services  had  made  his  due.  The  one,  in  spite 
of  the  harm  he  occasioned,  could  not  make  himself  hated,  nor 
the  other  with  all  the  admiration  he  attracted,  succeed  in 
being  beloved  by  his  countrymen. 

Coriolanus,  moreover,  it  should  be  said,  did  not  as  a gen- 
eral obtain  any  successes  for  his  country,  but  only  for  his 
enemies  against  his  country.  Alcibiades  was  often  of  service 
to  Athens,  both  as  a soldier  and  as  a commander.  So  long 
as  he  was  personally  present,  he  had  the  perfect  mastery  of 
his  political  adversaries  ; calumny  only  succeeded  in  his  ab- 
sence. Coriolanus  was  condemned  in  person  at  Rome  ; and 
in  like  manner  killed  by  the  Volscians,  not  indeed  with  any 
right  or  justice,  yet  not  without  some  pretext  occasioned  by 
his  own  acts  ; since,  after  rejecting  all  conditions  of  peace  in 
public,  in  private  he  yielded  to  the  solicitations  of  the  women 
and,  without  establishing  peace,  threw  up  the  favorable 
chances  of  war.  He  ought,  before  retiring,  to  have  obtained  the 
consent  of  those  who  had  placed  their  trust  in  him  ; if  indeed 
he  considered  their  claims  on  him  to  be  the  strongest.  Or, 
if  we  say  that  he  did  not  care  about  the  Volscians,  but  merely 
had  prosecuted  the  war,  which  he  now  abandoned,  for  the 
satisfaction  of  his  own  resentment,  then  the  noble  thing  would 


374  ALCIBIADES  AND  CORIOLANUS. 

have  been,  not  to  spare  his  country  for  his  mother^s  sake,  but 
his  mother  in  and  with  his  country ; since  both  his  mother 
and  his  wife  were  part  and  parcel  of  that  endangered  country. 
After  harshly  repelling  public  supplications  the  entreaties  of 
ambassadors,  and  the  prayers  of  priests,  to  concede  all  as  a 
j)rivate  favor  to  his  mother  was  less  an  honor  to  her  than  a 
dishonor  to  the  city  which  thus  escaped,  in  spite,  it  would 
seem,  of  its  own  demerits  through  the  intercession  of  a single 
woman.  Such  a grace  could,  indeed,  seem  merely  invidious, 
ungracious,  and  unreasonable  in  the  eyes  of  both  parties ; he 
retreated  without  listening  to  the  persuasions  of  his  opponents, 
or  asking  the  consent  of  his  friends.  The  origin  of  all  lay  in 
his  unsociable,  supercilious,  and  self-willed  disposition,  which 
in  all  cases,  is  offensive  to  most  people ; and  when  combined 
with  a passion  for  distinction  passes  into  absolute  savageness 
and  mercilessness.  Men  decline  to  ask  favors  of  the  people, 
professing  not  to  need  any  honors  from  them  ; and  then  are 
indignant  if  they  do  not  obtain  them.  Metellus,  Aristides, 
and  Epaminondas  certamly  did  not  beg  favors  of  the  multi- 
tude ; but  that  was  because  they,  in  real  truth,  did  not  value 
the  gifts  which  a popular  body  can  either  confer  or  refuse  ; 
and  when  they  were  more  than  once  driven  into  exile,  rejected 
vat  elections,  and  condemned  in  courts  of  justice,  they  showed 
no  resentment  at  the  ill-humor  of  their  fellow-citizens,  but 
were  willing  and  contented  to  return  and  be  reconciled  when 
the  feeling  altered  and  they  were  wished  for.  He  who  least 
likes  courting  favor,  ought  also  least  to  think  of  resenting 
neglect ; to  feel  wounded  at  being  refused  a distinction  can 
only  arise  from  an  overweening  appetite  to  have  it. 

Alcibiades  never  professed  to  deny  that  it  was  pleasant  to 
him  to  be  honored,  and  distasteful  to  him  to  be  overlooked  ; 
and,  accordingly,  he  always  tried  to  place  himself  upon  good 
terms  with  all  that  he  met ; Coriolanus’s  pride  forbade  him 
to  pay  attentions  to  those  who  could  have  promoted  his  ad- 
vancement, and  yet  his  love  of  distinction  made  him  feel  hurt 
and  angry  when  he  was  disregarded.  Such  are  the  faulty 
parts  of  his  character,  which  in  all  other  respects  was  a noble 
one.  For  his  temperance,  continence,  and  probity,  he  claims 
to  be  compared  with  the  best  and  purest  of  the  Greeks ; not 
in  any  sort  or  kind  with  Alcibiades,  the  least  scrupulous  and 
most  entirely  careless  of  human  beings  in  all  these  points. 


TIMOLEON. 


375 


TIMOLEON. 

It  was  for  the  sake  of  others  that  I first  commenced 
writing  biographies  ; but  I find  myself  proceeding  and  attach- 
ing myself  to  it  for  my  own  ; the  virtues  of  these  great  men 
serv^ing  me  as  a sort  of  looking-glass,  in  whicn  I may  see  how 
to  adjust  and  adorn  my  own  life.  Indeed,  it  can  be  compared 
to  nothing  but  daily  living  and  associating  together  ; we  re- 
ceive, as  it  were,  in  our  inquiry,  and  entertain  each  successive 
guest,  view 

Their  stature  and  their  qualities, 

and  select  from  their  actions  all  that  is  noblest  and  worthiest 
to  know. 

Ah,  and  what  greater  pleasure  could  one  have  ? 

or,  what  more  effective  means  to  one’s  moral  improvement  ? 
Democritus  tells  us  we  ought  to  pray  that  of  the  phantasms 
appearing  in  the  circumambient  air,  such  may  present  them- 
selves to  us  as  are  propitious,  and  that  we  may  rather  meet 
with  those  that  are  agreeable  to  our  natures  and  are  good,, 
than  the  evil  and  unfortunate  ; which  is  simply  introducing 
into  philosophy  a doctrine  untrue  in  itself,  and  leading  to 
endless  superstitions.  My  method,  on  the  contrary,  is,  by 
the  study  of  history,  and  by  the  familiarity  acquired  in  writing, 
to  habituate  my  memory  to  receive  and  retain  images  of  the 
best  and  worthiest  characters.  I thus  am  enabled  to  free  my- 
self from  any  ignoble,  base,  or  vicious  impressions,  contracted 
from  the  contagion  of  ill  company  that  I may  be  unavoidably 
engaged  in  ; by  the  remedy  of  turning  my  thoughts  in  a happy 
and  calm  temper  to  view  these  noble  examples.  Of  this  kind 
are  those  of  Timoleon  the  Corinthian,  and  Paulus  ^milius, 
.o  write  whose  lives  is  my  present  business  ; men  equally 
famous,  not  only  for  their  virtues,  but  success  ; insomuch 
that  they  have  left  it  doubtful  whether  they  owe  their  greatest 
achievements  to  good  fortune,  or  their  own  prudence  and 
conduct. 

The  affairs  of  the  Syracusans,  before  Timoleon  was  sent 
into  Sicily,  were  in  this  posture;  after  Dion  had  driven  out 
Dionysius  the  tyrant,  he  was  slain  by  treachery,  and  those 
that  had  assisted  him  in  delivering  Syracuse  were  divided 


376 


TIMOLEON. 


among  themselves ; and  thus  the  city  by  a continual  change 
of  governors,  and  a train  of  mischiefs  that  succeeded  each 
other,  became  almost  abandoned  ; while  of  the  rest  of  Sicily, 
part  was  now  utterly  depopulated  and  desolate  through  long 
continuance  of  war,  and  most  of  the  cities  that  had  been  left 
standing  were  in  the  hands  of  barbarians  and  soldiers  out  ot 
employment,  that  were  ready  to  embrace  every  turn  of  govern- 
ment. Such  being  the  state  of  things,  Dionysius  takes  the 
opportunity,  and  in  the  tenth  year  of  his  banishment,  by  the 
help  of  some  mercenary  troops  he  had  got  together,  forces 
out  Nysaeus,  then  master  of  Syracuse,  recovers  all  afresh,  and 
is  again  settled  in  his  dominion  ; and  as  at  first  he  had  been 
strangely  deprived  of  the  greatest  and  most  absolute  power 
that  ever  was,  by  a very  small  party,  so  now  in  a yet  stranger 
manner,  when  in  exile  and  of  mean  condition,  he  became  the 
sovereign  of  those  who  had  ejected  him.  All  therefore  that 
remained  in  Syracuse,  had  to  serve  under  a tyrant,  who  at  the 
best  was  of  an  ungentle  nature,  and  exasperated  now  to  a 
degree  of  savageness  by  the  late  misfortunes  and  calamities 
he  had  suffered.  The  better  and  more  distinguished  citizens, 
having  timely  retired  thence  to  Hicetes,  ruler  of  the  Leontines, 
put  themselves  under  his  protection,  and  chose  him  for  their 
general  in  the  war ; not  that  he  was  much  preferable  to  any 
open  and  avowed  tyrant,  but  they  had  no  other  sanctuary  at 
present,  and  it  gave  them  some  ground  of  confidence,  that  he 
was  of  a Syracusan  family,  and  had  forces  able  to  encounter 
those  of  Dionysius. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  Carthaginians  appeared  before 
Sicily  with  a great  navy,  watching  when  and  where  they  might 
make  a descent  upon  the  island  ; and  terror  at  this  fleet  made 
the  Sicilians  incline  to  send  an  embassy  into  Greece  to  de- 
mand succors  from  the  Corinthians,  whom  they  confided  in 
rather  than  others,  not  only  upon  the  account  of  their  near 
kindred,  and  the  great  benefits  they  had  often  received  by 
I trusting  them,  but  because  Corinth  had  ever  shown  herself 
attached  to  freedom  and  averse  from  tyranny,  and  had  en- 
gaged in  many  noble  wars,  not  for  empire  or  aggrandizement, 
but  for  the  sole  liberty  of  the  Greeks.  But  Hicetes,  who 
made  it  the  buisness  of  his  command  not  so  much  to  deliver 
.he  Syracusans  from  other  tyrants,  as  to  enslave  them  to  him- 
self, had  already  entered  into  some  secret  conferences  with 
those  of  Carthage,  while  in  public  he  commended  the  design 
of  his  Syracusan  clients,  and  despatched  ambassadors  from 
himself,  together  with  theirs,  into  Peloponnesus  ; not  that  he 


TIMOLEON. 


377 


really  desired  any  relief  to  come  from  there,  but,  in  case  the 
Corinthians,  as  was  likely  enough,  on  account  of  the  troubles 
of  Greece  and  occupation  at  home,  should  refuse  their  assist- 
ance, hoping  then  he  should  be  able  with  less  difficulty  to 
dispose  and  incline  things  for  the  Carthaginian  interest,  and 
so  make  use  of  these  foreign  pretenders,  as  instruments  and 
auxiliaries  for  himself,  either  against  the  Syracusans  or  Diony- 
sius, as  occasion  served.  This  was  discovered  a while  after. 

lire  ambassadors  being  arrived,  and  their  request  known, 
the  Corinthians,  who  had  always  a great  concern  for  all  their 
colonies  and  plantations,  but  especially  for  Syracuse,  since 
by  good  fortune  there  was  nothing  to  molest  them  in  their 
own  country,  where  they  were  enjoying  peace  and  leisure  at 
that  time,  readily  and  with  one  accord  passed  a vote  for  their 
assistance.  And  when  they  were  deliberating  about  the 
choice  of  a captain  for  the  expedition,  and  the  magistrates 
were  urging  the  claims  of  various  aspirants  for  reputation, 
one  of  the  crowd  stood  up  and  named  Timoleon,  son  of  Timo- 
demus,  who  had  long  absented  himself  from  public  business, 
and  had  neither  any  thoughts  of,  nor  the  least  pretension  to, 
an  employment  of  that  nature.  Some  god  or  other,  it  might 
rather  seem,  had  put  it  in  the  man’s  heart  to  mention  him; 
such  favor  and  good-will  on  the  part  of  Fortune  seemed  a** 
once  to  be  shown  in  his  election,  and  to  accompany  all  his  fol 
lowing  actions,  as  though  it  were  on  purpose  to  commend  his 
worth,  and  add  grace  and  ornament  to  his  personal  virtues. 
As  regards  his  parentage,  both  Timodemus  his  father,  and 
his  mother  Demariste,  were  of  high  rank  in  the  city  ; and  as 
for  himself,  he  was  noted  for  his  love  of  his  country,  and  his 
gentleness  of  temper,  except  in  his  extreme  hatred  to  tyrants 
and  wicked  men.  His  natural  abilities  for  war  was  so  hap- 
pily tempered,  that  while  a rare  prudence  might  be  seen  in 
all  the  enterprises  of  his  younger  years,  an  equal  courage 
showed  itself  in  the  last  exploits  of  his  declining  age.  He 
had  an  elder  brother,  whose  name  was  Timophanes,  who  was 
every  way  unlike  him,  being  indiscreet  and  rash,  and  infected 
by  the  suggestions  of  some  friends  and  foreign  soldiers,  whom 
he  kept  always  about  him,  with  a passion  for  absolute  power. 
He  seemed  to  have  a certain  force  and  vehemence  in  all  mil- 
itary service,  and  even  to  delight  in  dangers,  and  thus  he 
took  much  with  the  people,  and  was  advanced  to  the  highest 
charges,  as  a vigorous  and  effective  warrior ; in  the  obtaining 
of-  which  officers  and  promotions,  Timoleon  much  assisted 
him,  helping  to  conceal  or  at  least  to  extenuate  his  errors. 


378 


TIMOLEON. 


embellishing  by  his  praise  whatever  was  commendable  in  him, 
and  setting  off  his  good  qualities  to  the  best  advantage. 

It  happened  once  in  the  battle  fought  by  the  Corinthians 
against  the  forces  of  Argos  and  Cleonae,  that  Timoleon 
served  among  the  infantry,  when  Timophanes,  commanding 
their  cavalry,  was  brought  into  extreme  danger;  as  his  horse 
being  wounded  fell  forward  and  threw  him  headlong  amidst 
the  enemies,  while  part  of  his  companions  dispersed  at  once 
in  a panic,  and  the  small  number  that  remained,  bearing  up 
against  a great  multitude,  had  much  ado  to  maintain  any  re- 
sistance. As  soon,  therefore,  as  Timoleon  was  aware  of  the 
accident,  he  ran  hastily  in  to  his  brother's  rescue,  and  cov- 
ering the  fallen  Timophanes  with  his  buckler,  after  having 
received  abundance  of  darts,  and  several  strokes  by  the  sword 
upon  his  body  and  his  armor,  he  at  length  with  much  dif- 
ficulty obliged  the  enemies  to  retire,  and  brought  off  his 
brother  alive  and  safe.  But  when  the  Corinthians,  for  fear 
of  losing  their  city  a second  time,  as  they  had  once  before, 
by  admitting  their  allies,  made  a decree  to  maintain  four 
hundred  mercenaries  for  its  security,  and  gave  Timophanes 
the  command  over  them,  he,  abandoning  all  regard  to  honor 
and  equity,  at  one  proceeded  to  put  into  execution  his  plans 
for  making  himself  absolute,  and  bringing  the  place  under 
his  own  power ; and  having  cut  off  many  principal  citizens, 
uncondemned  and  without  trial,  who  were  most  likely  to 
hinder  his  designs,  he  declared  himself  tyrant  of  Corinth ; 
a procedure  that  infinitely  afflicted  Timoleon,  to  whom  the 
wickedness  of  such  a brother  appeared  to  be  his  own  re- 
proach and  calamity.  He  undertook  to  persuade  him  by 
reasoning,  that  desisting  from  that  wild  and  unhappy  ambi- 
tion, he  would  bethink  himself  how  he  should  make  the 
Corinthians  some  amends,  and  find  out  an  expedient  to  rem- 
edy and  correct  the  evils  he  had  done  them.  When  his  single 
admonition  was  rejected  and  contemned  by  him,  he  makes 
a second  attempt,  taking  with  him  AEschylus  his  kinsman, 
brother  to  the  wife  of  Timophanes,  and  a certain  diviner,  that 
was  his  friend,  whom  Theopompus  in  his  history  calls  Satyrus, 
but  Ephorus  and  Timaeus  mention  in  theirs  by  the  name  of 
Orthagoras.  After  a few  days,  then,  he  returns  to  his  brother 
with  this  company,  all  three  of  them  surrounding  and  ear- 
nestly importuning  him  upon  the  same  subject,  that  now  at 
length  he  would  listen  to  reason,  and  be  of  another  mind. 
But  when  Timophanes  began  first  to  laugh  at  the  men's  sim- 
plicity, and  presently  broke  out  into  rage  and  indignation 


TIMOLEON. 


379 


against  them,  Timoleon  stepped  aside  from  him  and  stood 
weeping  with  his  face  covered,  while  the  other  two,  drawing 
out  their  swords,  despatched  him  in  a moment. 

On  the  rumor  of  this  act  being  soon  scattered  about,  the 
better  and  more  generous  of  the  Corinthians  highly  applauded 
Timoleon  for  the  hatred  of  wrong  and  the  greatness  of  soul 
that  had  made  him,  though  of  a gentle  disposition  and  full  of 
love  and  kindness  for  his  family,  think  the  obligations  to  his 
country  stronger  than  the  ties  of  consanguinity,  and  prefer 
that  which  is  good  and  just  before  gain  and  interest  and  his 
own  particular  advantage.  For  the  same  brother,  who  with 
so  much  bravery  had  been  saved  by  him  when  he  fought 
valiantly  in  the  cause  of  Corinth,  he  had  now  as  nobly  sacri- 
ficed for  enslaving  her  afterwards  by  a base  usurpation.  But 
then,  on  the  other  side,  those  that  knew  not  how  to  live  in  a 
democracy,  and  had  been  used  to  make  their  humble  court  to 
the  men  of  power,  though  they  openly  professed  to  rejoice  at 
the  death  of  the  tyrant,  nevertheless,  secretly  reviling  Timo^ 
leon,  as  one  that  had  committed  an  impious  and  abominable 
act,  drove  him  into  melancholy  and  dejection.  And  when  he 
came  to  understand  how  heavily  his  mother  took  it,  and  that 
she  likewise  uttered  the  saddest  complaints  and  most  terrible 
imprecations  against  him,  he  went  to  satisfy  and  comfort  her 
as  to  what  had  happened  ; and  finding  that  she  would  not 
endure  so  much  as  to  look  upon  him,  but  caused  her  doors  to 
be  shut,  that  he  might  have  no  admission  into  her  presence, 
with  grief  at  this  he  grew  so  disordered  in  his  mind  and  so 
disconsolate,  that  he  determined  to  put  an  end  to  his  per- 
plexity with  his  life,  by  abstaining  from  all  manner  of  suste- 
nance. But  through  the  care  and  diligence  of  his  friends, 
who  were  very  instant  with  him,  and  added  force  to  their 
entreaties,  he  came  to  resolve  and  promise  at  last,  that  he 
would  endure  living,  provided  it  might  be  in  solitude,  and  re- 
mote from  company  ; so  that,  quitting  all  civil  transactions 
and  commerce  with  the  world  for  a long  while  after  his  first 
retirement  he  never  came  into  Corinth,  but  wandered  up  and 
down  the  fields,  full  of  anxious  and  tormenting  thoughts,  and. 
spent  his  time  in  desert  places,  at  the  farthest  distance  from 
society  and  human  intercourse.  So  true  it  is  that  the  minds 
of  men  are  easily  shaken  and  carried  off  from  their  cwn  sen- 
timents through  the  casual  commendation  or  reproof  of  others, 
unless  the  judgments  that  we  make,  and  the  purposes  we  con- 
ceive, be  confirmed  by  reason  and  philosophy,  and  thus  obtain 
strength  and  steadiness.  An  action  must  not  only  be  just 


380 


TIMOLEON 


and  laudable  in  its  own  nature,  but  it  must  proceed  likewise 
from  solid  motives  and  a lasting  principle,  that  so  we  may 
fully  and  constantly  approve  the  thing,  and  be  perfectly  satis- 
fied in  what  we  do  ; for  otherwise,  after  having  put  our  reso- 
lut'ion  into  practice,  we  shall  out  of  pure  weakness  come  to 
be  troubled  at  the  performance,  when  the  grace  and  godliness, 
which  rendered  it  before  so  amiable  and  pleasing  to  us,  begin 
to  decay  and  wear  out  of  our  fancy ; like  greedy  people,  who 
seizing  on  the  more  delicious  morsels  of  any  dish  with  a 
keen  appetite,  are  presently  disgusted  when  they  grow  full, 
and  find  themselves  oppressed  and  uneasy  now  by  what  they 
before  so  greedily  desired.  For  a succeeding  dislike  spoils 
the  best  of  actions,  and  repentance  makes  that  which  was 
never  so  well  done,  become  base  and  faulty ; whereas  the 
choice  that  is  founded  upon  knowledge  and  wise  reasoning, 
does  not  change  by  disappointment,  or  suffer  us  to  repent, 
though  it  happen  perchance  to  be  less  prosperous  in  the 
issue.  And  thus,  Phocion,  of  Athens,  having  always  vigor- 
ously opposed  the  measures  of  Leosthenes,  when  success 
appeared  to  attend  them,  and  he  saw  his  countrymen  rejoic- 
ing and  offering  sacrifice  in  honor  of  their  victory,  I should 
have  been  as  glad,’’  said  he  to  them,  “that  I myself  had  been 
the  author  of  what  Leosthenes  has  achieved  for  you,  as  I am 
that  I gave  3^ou  my  own  counsel  against  it.”  A more  vehe- 
ment reply  is  recorded  to  have  been  made  by  Aristides  the 
Locrian,  one  of  Plato’s  companions,  to  Dionysius  the  elder 
who  demanded  one  of  his  daughters  in  marriage : “ I had 
rather,”  said  he  to  him,  “ see  the  virgin  in  her  grave,  than  in 
the  palace  of  a tyrant.”  And  when  Dionysius,  enraged  at 
the  affront,  made  his  sons  be  put  to  death  a while  after,  and 
then  again  insultingly  asked,  whether  he  were  still  in  the 
same  mind  as  to  the  disposal  of  his  daughters,  his  answer 
was,  “ I cannot  but  grieve  at  the  cruelty  of  your  deeds,  but 
am  not  sorry  for  the  freedom  of  my  own  words.”  Such  ex- 
pressions as  these  may  belong  perhaps  to  a more  sublime  and 
accomplished  virtue. 

The  grief,  however,  of  Timoleon  at  what  had  been  done, 
whether  it  arose  from  commiseration  of  his  brother’s  fate,  or 
the  reverence  he  bore  his  mother,  so  shattered  and  broke  his 
spirits,  that  for  the  space  of  almost  twenty  years  he  had  not 
offered  to  concern  himself  in  any  honorable  or  public  action. 
When,  therefore,  he  was  pitched  upon  for  a general,  and, 
joyfully  accepted  as  such  by  the  suffrages  of  the  people, 
1 eJeclides,  who  was  at  that  time  the  most  powerful  and  dis- 


TIMOLEON. 


381 


ringuished  man  in  Corinth,  began  to  exhort  him  that  he 
would  act  now  like  a man  of  worth  and  gallantry  : “ For  said 
he,  if  you  do  bravely  in  this  service  we  shall  believe  that  you 
delivered  us  from  a tyrant ; but  if  otherwise  that  you  killed 
your  brother.”  While  he  was  yet  preparing  to  set  sail,  and 
enlisting  soldiers  to  embark  with  him,  there  came  letters  to 
the  Corinthians  from  Hicetes,  plainly  disclosing  his  revolt 
and  treachery.  For  his  ambassadors  had  no  sooner  gone 
for  Corinth,  but  he  openly  joined  the  Carthaginians,  negoti- 
ating that  they  might  assist  him  to  throw  out  Dionysius,  and 
become  master 'of  Syracuse  in  his  room.  And  fearing  he 
might  be  disappointed  of  his  aim  if  troops  and  a commander 
should  come  from  Corinth  before  this  were  effected,  he  sent  a 
letter  of  advice  thither,  in  all  haste,  to  prevent  their  setting 
out  telling  them  they  need  not  be  at  any  cost  and  trouble 
upon  his  account,  or  run  the  hazard  of  a Sicilian  voyage, 
especially  since  the  Carthaginians,  alliance  with  whom 
against  Dionysius  the  slowness  of  their  motions  had  com- 
pelled him  to  embrace,  would  dispute  their  passage,  and  lay 
in  wait  to  attack  them  with  a numerous  fleet.  This  letter 
being  publicly  read,  if  any  had  been  cold  and  indifferent  be- 
fore as  to  the  expedition  in  hand  the  indignation  they  now 
conceived  against  Hicetes  so  exasperated  and  inflamed  them 
all  that  they  willingly  contributed  to  supply  Tirnoleon,  and 
endeavored  with  one  accord  to  hasten  his  departure. 

When  the  vessels  were  equipped,  and  his  soldiers  every 
way  provided  for,  the  female  priest  of  Proserpina  had  a dream 
or  vision  wherein  she  arid  her  mother  Ceres  appeared  to  them 
in  a travelling  garb,  and  were  heard  to  say  that  they  were 
going  to  sail  with  Tirnoleon  into  Sicily  ; whereupon  the  Corin- 
thians, having  built  a sacred  galley,  devoted  it  to  them,  and 
called  it  the  galley  of  the  goddesses.  Tirnoleon  went  in  per- 
son to  Delphi,  where  he  sacrificed  to  Apollo,  and,  descending 
into  the  place  of  prophecy,  was  surprised  with  the  following 
marvellous  occurrence.  A riband  with  crowns  and  figures  of 
victory  embroidered  upon  it,  slipped  off  from  among  the  gifts 
that  were  there  consecrated  and  hung  up  in  the  temple,  and 
fell  directly  down  upon  his  head  ; so  that  Apollo  seemed  al- 
ready to  crown  him  with  success,  and  send  him  thence  to  con- 
quer and  triumph.  He  put  to  sea  only  with  seven  ships  of 
Corinth,  two  of  Corcyra,  and  a tenth  which  was  furnished  by 
the  Leucadians  ; and  when  he  was  now  entered  into  the  deep 
by  night,  and  carried  with  a prosperous  gale,  the  heaven 
seemed  all  on  a sudden  to  break  open,  and  a bright  spreading 


382 


TIMOLEON. 


flame  to  issue  forth  from  it,  and  hover  over  the  ship  he  was 
in  ; and,  having  formed  itself  into  a torch,  not  unlike  those 
that  are  used  in  the  mysteries,  it  began  to  steer  the  same 
course,  and  run  along  in  their  company,  guiding  them  by  its 
light  to  that  quarter  of  Italy  where  they  designed  to  go  ashore. 
The  soothsayers  affirmed,  that  this  apparition  agreed  with  the 
dream  of  the  holy  woman,  since  the  goddesses  were  now 
visibl)  joining  in  the  expedition,  and  sending  this  light  from 
heaven  before  them  : Sicily  being  thought  sacred  to  Proser- 
pina, as  poets  feign  that  the  rape  was  committed  there,  and 
that  the  island  was  given  her  in  dowry  when  she  married  Pluto. 

These  early  demonstrations  of  divine  favor  greatly  en- 
couraged his  whole  army  ; so  that  making  all  the  speed  they 
were  able,  by  a voyage  across  the  open  sea,  they  were  soon 
passing  along  the  coast  of  Italy.  But  the  tidings  that  came 
from  Sicily  much  perplexed  Timoleon,  and  disheartened  his 
soldiers.  For  Hicetes,  having  already  beaten  Dionysius  out 
of  the  field,  and  reduced  most  of  the  quarters  of  Syracuse 
itself,  now  hemmed  him  in  and  beseiged  him  in  the  citadel  and 
what  is  called  the  Island,  whither  he  was  fled  for  his  last  ref- 
uge ; while  the  Carthaginians,  by  agreement,  were  to  make  it 
their  business  to  hinder  Timoleon  from  landing  in  any  port  of 
Sicily  ; so  that  he  and  his  party  being  driven  back,  they-might 
with  ease  and  at  their  own  leisure  divide  the  island  among 
themselves.  In  pursuance  of  which  design,  the  Carthaginians 
sent  away  twenty  of  their  galleys  to  Rhegium,  having  aboard 
them  certain  ambassadors  from  Hicetes  to  Timoleon,  who 
carried  instructions  suitable  to  these  proceedings,  specious 
amusements  and  plausible  stories,  to  color  and  conceal  dis- 
honest purposes.  They  had  order  to  propose  and  demand 
that  Timoleon  himself,  if  he  liked  the  offer,  should  come  and 
advise  with  Hicetes  and  partake  of  all  his  conquests,  but  that 
he  might  send  back  his  ships  and  forces  to  Corinth,  since  the 
war  was  in  a manner  finished,  and  the  Carthaginians  had 
blocked  up  the  passage,  determined  to  oppose  them  if  they 
should  tr}^  to  force  their  way  towards  the  shore.  When,  there- 
fore, the  Corinthians  met  with  these  envoys  at  Rhegium,  and 
received  their  message,  and  saw  the  Phoenician  vessels  riding 
at  anchor  in  the  bay,  they  became  keenly  sensible  of  the 
abuse  that  was  put  upon  them,  and  felt  a general  indignation 
against  Hicetes,  and  great  apprehensions  for  the  Siceliots, 
whom  they  now  plainly  perceived  to  be  as  it  were  a prize  and 
recompense  to  Hicetes  on  one  side  for  his  perfidy,  and  to  the 
Carthaginians  on  the  other  for  the  sovereign  power  they  se^ 


TIMOLEON. 


383 


cured  to  him.  For  it  seemed  utterly  impossible  to  force  and 
overbear  the  Carthaginian  ships  that  lay  before  them  and  were 
double  their  number,  as  also  to  vanquish  the  victorious  troops 
which  Hicetes  had  with  him  in  Syracuse,  to  take  the  lead  of 
which  very  troops  they  had  undertaken  their  voyage. 

The  case  being  thus,  Timoleon,  after  some  conference  with 
the  envoys  of  Hicetes  and  the  Carthaginian  captains,  told 
Inem  he  should  readily  submit  to  their  proposals  (to  what 
purpose  would  it  be  to  refuse  compliance  ?)  : he  was  desirous 
only,  before  his  return  to  Corinth,  that  what  had  passed  be- 
tween them  in  private  might  be  solemnly  declared  before  the 
people  of  Rhegium,  a Greek  city,  and  a common  friend  to  the 
parties  ; this,  he  said,  would  very  much  conduce  to  his  own 
security  and  discharge  ; and  they  likewise  would  more  strictly 
observe  articles  of  agreement,  on  behalf  of  the  Syracusans, 
which  they  had  obliged  themselves  to  in  the  presence  of  so 
many  witnesses.  The  design  of  all  which  was,  only  to  divert 
their  attention,  while  he  got  an  opportunity  of  slipping  away 
from  their  fleet ; a contrivance  that  all  the  principal  Rhegians 
were  privy  and  assisting  to,  who  had  a great  desire  that  the 
affairs  of  Sicily  should  fall  into  Corinthian  hands,  and  dreaded 
the  consequences  of  having  barbarian  neighbors.  An  as- 
sembly was  therefore  called,  and  the  gates  shut,  that  the  cit- 
izens might  have  no  liberty  to  turn  to  other  business  ; and  a 
succession  of  speakers  came  forw^ard,  addressing  the  people 
at  great  length,  to  the  same  effect,  without  bringing  the  sub- 
ject to  any  conclusion,  making  way  each  for  another  and  pur- 
posely spinning  out  the  time,  till  the  Corinthian  galleys 
should  get  clear  of  the  haven  ; ^the  Carthaginian  commanders 
being  detained  there  without  any  suspicion,  as  also  Timoleon 
still  remained  present,  and  gave  signs  as  if  he  were  just  pre- 
paring to  make  an  oration.  But  upon  secret  notice  that  the 
rest  of  the  galleys  were  already  gone  off,  and  that  his  alone 
remained  waiting  for  him,  by  the  help  and  concealment  of 
tliose  Rhegians  that  were  about  the  hustings  and  favored  his 
departure,  he  made  shift  to  slip  away  through  the  crowd,  and 
running  down  to  the  port,  set  sail  with  all  speed  ; and  having 
reached  his  other  vessels,  they  came  all  safe  to  Tauromenium 
ill  Sicily,  w'hither  they  had  been  formerly  invited,  and  where 
they  were  now  kindly  received  by  Andromachus,  then  ruler 
of  the  city.  This  man  was  father  of  Timajus  the  historian, 
and  incomparably  the  best  of  all  those  that  bore  sway  in  Sicily 
at  that  time,  governing  his  citizens  according  to  law  and  justice, 
and  openly  professing  an  aversion  and  enmity  to  all  tyrants  ; 


3^4 


TIMOLEON. 


upon  which  account  he  gave  Timoleon  leave  to  muster  up  his 
troops  there,  and  to  make  that  city  the  seat  of  war,  persuading 
the  inhabitants  to  join  their  arms  with  the  Corinthian  forces, 
and  assist  them  in  the  design  of  delivering  Sicily. 

But  the  Carthaginians  who  were  left  in  Rhegium  percciv' 
ing,  when  the  assembly  was  dissolved,  that  Timoleon  had  given 
them  the  go  by,  were  not  a little  vexed  to  see  themselves 
outwitted,  much  to  the  amusement  of  the  Rhegians,  who  could 
not  but  smile  to  find  Phoenicians  complain  of  being  cheated. 
However,  they  despatched  a messenger  aboard  one  of  their 
galleys  to  Tauromenium,  who,  after  much  blustering  in  the 
insolent  barbaric  way,  and  many  menaces  to  Andromachus  if 
he  did  not  forthwith  send  the  Corinthians  off,  stretched  out 
his  hand  with  the  inside  upward,  and  then  turning  it  down 
again,  threatened  he  would  handle  their  city  even  so,  and  turn 
it  topsy-turvy  in  as  little  time,  and  with  as  much  ease.  An- 
dromachus, laughing  at  the  man’s  confidence,  made  no  other 
reply,  but,  imitating  his  gesture,  bid  him  hasten  his  own  de- 
parture, unless  he  had  a mind  to  see  that  kind  of  dexterity 
practised  first  upon  the  galley  which  brought  him  hither. 

Hicetes,  informed  that  Timoleon  had  made  good  his  pas- 
sage, was  in  great  fear  of  what  might  follow,  and  sent  to  de- 
sire the  Carthaginians  that  a large  number  of  galleys  might 
be  ordered  to  attend  and  secure  the  coast.  And  now  it  was 
that  the  Syracusans  began  wholly  to  despair  of  safety,  seeing 
the  Carthaginians  possessed  of  their  haven,  Hicetes  master  of 
the  town,  and  Dionysius  supreme  in  the  citadel ; while  Timo- 
leon had  as  yet  but  a slender  hold  of  Sicily,  as  it  were  by  the 
fringe  or  border  of  it,  in  the  ^mall  city  of  the  Tauromenians, 
with  a feeble  hope  and  a poor  company ; having  but  a thous- 
and soldiers  at  the  most,  and  no  more  provisions,  either  of 
corn  or  money,  than  were  just  necessary  for  the  maintenance 
and  the  pay  of  that  inconsiderable  number.  Nor  did  the 
other  towns  of  Sicily  confide  in  him,  overpowered  as  they 
were  with  violence  and  outrage,  and  embittered  against  all 
that  should  offer  to  lead  armies,  by  the  treacherous  conduct 
chiefly  of  Callipus,  an  Athenian,  and  Pharax,  a Lacedaemonian 
captain,  both  of  whom,  after  giving  out  that  the  des’gn  of  their 
coming  was  to  introduce  liberty  and  to  depose  tyrants,  so 
tyrannized  themselves,  that  the  reign  of  former  oppressors 
seemed  to  be  a golden  age  in  comparison,  and  the  Sicilians 
began  to  consider  those  more  happy  who  had  expired  in  servi- 
tude, than  any  that  had  lived  to  see  such  a dismal  freedom. 

Look’ng,  therefore,  for  no  better  usage  from  the  Corin? 


TIMOLEON. 


3S5 


Alan  general,  but  imagining  that  it  was  only  the  same  old 
course  of  things  once  more,  specious  pretences  and  false  pro- 
fessions to  allure  them  by  fair  hopes  and  kind  promises  into 
the  obedience  of  a new  master,  they  all,  with  one  accord,  un- 
less it  were  the  people  of  Adranum,  suspected  the  exhorta- 
tions, and  rejected  the  overtures  that  were  made  them  in  hif 
name.  These  were  inhabitants  of  a small  city,  consecrated  to 
Adranus,  a certain  god  that  was  in  high  veneration  through- 
out Sicily,  and,  as  it  happened,  they  were  then  at  variance 
among  themselves,  insomuch  that  one  party  called  in  Hicetes 
and  the  Carthaginians  to  assist  them,  while  the  other  sent 
proposals  to  Timoleon.  It  so  fell  out  that  these  auxiliaries, 
striving  which  should  be  soonest,  both  arrived  at  Adranum 
about  the  same  time  ; Hicetes  bringing  with  him  at  least  five 
thousand  men,  while  all  the  force  Timoleon  could  make  did 
dot  exceed  twelve  hundred.  With  these  he  marched  out  of 
Tauromenium,  which  was  about  three  hundred  and  forty  fur- 
longs distant  from  that  city.  The  first  day  he  moved  but 
slowly,  and  took  up  his  quarters  betimes  after  a short  journey 
but  the  day  following  he  quickened  his  pace,  and,  having 
passed  through  much  difficult  ground,  towards  evening  re- 
ceived advice  that  Hicetes  was  just  approaching  Adranum, 
and  pitching  his  camp  before  it ; upon  which  intelligence,  his 
captains  and  other  officers  caused  the  vanguard  to  halt,  that 
the  army  being  refreshed,  and  having  reposed  a while,  might 
engage  the  enemy  with  better  heart.  But  Timoleon,  coming 
up  ill  haste,  desired  them  not  to  stop  for  that  reason,  but 
rather  use  all  possible  diligence  to  surprise  the  enemy,  whom 
probably  they  would  now  find  in  disorder,  as  having  lately 
ended  their  march  and  being  taken  up  at  present  in  erecting 
tents  and  preparing  supper;  which  he  had  no  sooner  said,  but 
laying  hold  of  his  buckler  and  putting  himself  in  the  front,  he  led 
them  on  as  it  were  to  certain  victory.  The  braveness  of  such  a 
leader  made  them  all  follow  him  with  like  courage  and  assur- 
ance. They  were  now  within  less  than  thirty  furlongs  of  Adra- 
nuin, which  they  quickly  traversed,  and  immediately  fed  in  upon 
the  enemy,who  were  seized  with  confusion,  and  began  to  retire 
at  their  first  approaches  ; one  consequence  of  which  was  that, 
amidst  so  little  opposition,  and  so  early  and  general  a flight, 
there  were  not  many  more  than  three  hundred  slain,  and  about 
twice  the  number  made  prisoners.  Their  camp  and  baggage, 
however,  was  all  taken.  The  fortune  of  this  onset  soon  in- 
duced the  Adranitans  to  unlock  their  gates,  and  to  embrace 
the  ir  terest  of  Timoleon,  to  whom  they  recounted,  with  a 

25 


386 


TIMOLEON 


mixture  of  affright  and  admiration,  how,  at  the  very  minute  ol 
the  encounter,  the  doors  of  their  temple  flew  open  of  their 
own  accord,  that  the  javelin  also,  which  their  god  held  in  his 
hand,  was  observed  to  tremble  at  the  point,  and  that  drops  of 
sweat  had  been  seen  running  down  his  face  ; prodigies  that 
not  only  presaged  the  victory  then  obtained,  but,  were  an 
omen,  it  seems,  of  all  his  future  exploits,  to  which  this  first 
happy  action  gave  the  occasion. 

For  now  the  neighboring  cities  and  potentates  sent  depu^ 
ties,  one  upon  another,  to  seek  his  friendship  and  make  ofer 
of  their  service.  Among  the  rest  Mamercus,  the  tyrant  of 
Catana,  an  experienced  warrior  and  a wealthy  prince,  made 
proposals  of  alliance  with  him,  and  what  was  of  greater  im- 
portance still,  Dionysius  himself  being  now  grown  desperate, 
and  well-nigh  forced  to  surrender,  despising  Hicetes  who  had 
been  thus  shamefully  baffled,  and  admiring  the  valor  of  Timo- 
leon,  found  means  to  advertise  him  and  his  Corinthians  thai 
he  should  be  content  to  deliver  up  himself  and  the  citadel 
into  their  hands.  Timoleon,  gladly  embracing  this  unlooked- 
for  advantage,  sends  away  Euclides  and  Telemachus,  two 
Corinthian  captains,  with  four  hundred  men,  fof  the  seizure 
and  custody  of  the  castle,  with  directions  to  enter  not  all  at 
once,  or  in  open  view,  that  being  impracticable  so  long  as  the 
enemy  kept  guard,  but  by  stealth,  and  in  small  companies. 
And  so  they  took  possession  of  the  fortress  and  the  palace  of 
Dionysius,  with  all  the  stores  and  ammunition  he  had  pre- 
pared and  laid  up  to  maintain  the  war.  They  found  a goad 
number  of  horses,  every  variety  of  engines,  a multitude  of 
darts,  and  weapons  to  arm  seventy  thousand  men  (a  magazine 
that  had  been  formed  from  ancient  time),  besides  two  thou- 
sand soldiers  that  were  then  with  him,  whom  he  gave  up  with 
the  rest  for  Timoleon’s  service.  Dionysius  himself,  putting 
his  treasure  aboard,  and  taking  a few  friends,  sailed  away  un- 
observed by  Hicetes,  and  being  brought  to  the  camp  of  Timo- 
leon, there  first  appeared  in  the  humble  dress  of  a private 
person,  and  was  shortly  after  sent  to  Corinth  with  a single 
ship  and  a small  sum  of  money.  Born  and  educated  in  tht 
most  splendid  court  and  the  most  absolute  monarchy  that 
ever  was,  which  he  held  and  kept  up  for  the  space  of  ten 
years  succeeding  his  father's  death,  he  had,  after  Dion's  ex- 
pedition, spent  twelve  other  years  in  a continual  agitation  of 
wars  and  contests,  and  great  variety  of  fortune,  during  which 
time  ail  the  mischiefs  he  had  committed  in  his  former  reign 
were  more  than  repaid  by  the  ills  he  himself  then  suffered  ; 


TIMOLEON. 


38. 


sinv’^e  lie  lived  to  see  the  deaths  of  his  sons  in  the  prime  and 
vigor  of  their  age,  and  the  rape  of  his  daughters  in  the  flower 
of  their  virginity,  and  the  wicked  abuse  of  his  sister  and  his 
wife,  who,  after  being  first  exposed  to  all  the  lawless  insults 
of  the  soldiery,  was  then  murdered  with  her  children,  and 
cast  into  the  sea ; the  particulars  oi  which  are  more  exactly 
given  in  the  life  of  Dion. 

Upon  the  news  of  his  landing  at  Corinth,  there  was  hardly 
a man  in  Greece  who  had  not  the  curiosity  to  come  and  view 
the  late  formidable  tyrant,  and  say  some  words  to  him  ; part, 
rejoicing  at  his  disasters,  were  led  thither  out  of  mere  spite 
and  hatred,  that  they  might  have  the  pleasure  of  trampling,  as 
it  were,  on  the  ruins  of  his  broken  fortune  ; but  others,  letting 
their  attention  and  their  sympathy  turn  rather  to  the  changes 
and  revolutions  of  his  life,  could  not  but  see  in  them  a proof 
of  the  strength  and  potency  with  which  divine  and  unseen 
causes  operate  amidst  the  weakness  of  human  and  visible 
things.  For  neither  art  nor  nature  did  in  that  age  produce 
any  thing  comparable  to  this  work  and  wonder  of  fortune 
which  showed  the  very  same  man,  that  was  not  long  before 
supreme  monarch  of  Sicily,  loitering  about  perhaps  in  the  fish 
market,  or  sitting  in  a perfumer^s  shop  drinking  the  diluted 
wine  of  taverns,  or  squabbling  in  the  street  with  common 
women,  or  pretending  to  instruct  the  singing  women  of  the 
theatre,  and  seriously  disputing  with  them  about  the  measuiL 
and  harmony  of  pieces  of  music  that  were  performed  there- 
Such  behavior  on  his  part  was  variously  criticised.  He  was 
thought  by  many  to  act  thus  out  of  pure  compliance  with  his 
own  natural  indolent  and  vicious  inclinations  , while  finer 
judges  were  of  the  opinion,  that  in  all  this  he  vvas  playing  a 
politic  part,  with  a design  to  be  contemned  among  them,  and 
that  the  Corinthians  might  not  feel  any  apprehension  or  sus- 
picion of  his  being  uneasy  under  his  reverse  of  fortune,  or 
solicitous  to  retrieve  it ; to  avoid  which  danger,  he  purposely 
and  against  his  true  nature  affected  an  appearance  of  folly 
and  want  of  spirit  in  his  private  life  and  amusements. 

However  it  be,  there  are  sayings  and  repartees  of  his  left 
still  upon  record,  which  seem  to  show  that  he  not  ignobly  nc- 
commodated  himself  to  his  present  circumstances  ; as  may 
appear  in  part  from  the  ingenuousness  of  the  avowal  he  made 
on  coming  to  Leucadia,  which,  as  well  as  Syracuse,  was  a 
Corinthian  colony,  where  he  told  the  inhabitants,  that  he 
found  himself  not  unlike  boys  who  had  been  in  fault,  who  can 
talk  cheerfully  with  their  iDrothers,  but  are  ashamed  to  see 


388 


TIMOLEON. 


their  father  ; so  likewise  he,  he  said,  could  gladly  reside  with 
them  in  that  island,  whereas  he  felt  a certain  awe  upon  his 
mind,  which  made  him  averse  to  the  sight  of  Corinth,  that 
was  a common  mother  to  them  both.  The  thing  is  further 
evident  from  the  reply  he  once  made  to  a stranger  in  Corinth, 
who  deriding  him  in  a rude  and  scornful  manner  about  the 
conferences  he  used  to  have  with  philosophers,  whose  com- 
pany had  been  one  of  his  pleasures  while  yet  a monarch,  and 
demanding,  in  fine,  what  he  was  the  better  now  for  all  those 
wise  and  learned  discourses  of  Plato,  ‘‘  Do  you  think,^^  said 
he,  ‘‘  I have  made  no  profit  of  his  philosophy,  when  you  see 
me  bear  my  change  of  fortune  as  I do  ? And  when  Aris- 
toxenus  the  musician,  and  several  others,  desired  to  know 
how  Plato  offended  him,  and  what  had  been  the  ground  of 
his  displeasure  with  him,  he  made  answer,  that  of  the  many 
evils  attaching  to  the  condition  of  sovereignty,  the  one  great- 
est infelicity  was  that  none  of  those  who  were  accounted 
friends  would  venture  to  speak  freely,  or  tell  the  plain  truth ; 
and  that  by  means  of  such  he  had  been  deprived  of  Plato’s 
kindness.  At  another  time,  when  one  of  those  pleasant  com- 
panions that  are  desirous  to  pass  for  wits,  in  mockery  to 
Dionysius,  as  if  he  were  still  the  tyrant,  shook  out  the  folds 
of  his  cloak,  as  he  was  entering  into  a room  where  he.  was,  to 
show  there  were  no  concealed  weapons  about  hiin,  Donysius, 
by  way  of  retort,  observed,  that  he  would  prefer  he  would  do  so 
on  leaving  the  room,  as  a security  that  he  was  carrying  nothing 
off  with  him.  And  when  Philip  of  Macedon,  at  a drinking  party, 
began  to  speak  in  banter  about  the  verses  and  tragedies  which 
his  father,  Dionysius  the  elder,  had  left  behind  him,  and  pre- 
tended to  wonder  how  he  could  get  any  time  from  his  other 
business  to  compose  such  elaborate  and  ingenious  pieces,  he 
replied,  very  much  to  the  purpose,  It  was  at  those  leisurable 
hours,  which  such  as  you  and  I,  and  those  we  call  happy 
men,  bestow  upon  our  cups.”  Plato  had  not  the  opportunity 
to  see  Dionysius  at  Corinth,  being  already  dead  before  he 
came  thither ; but  Diogenes  of  Sinope,  at  their  first  meeting 
in  the  street  there,  saluted  him  with  the  ambiguous  expres- 
sion, “ O Dionysius,  how  little  you  deserve  your  present  life  ! ” 
Upon  which  Dionysius  stopped  and  replied,  I thank  you, 
Diogenes,  for  your  condolence.”  “ Condole  with  you  1 ” re- 
plied Diogenes  ; do  you  not  suppose  that,  on  the  contrary,  I 
am  indignant  that  such  a slave  as  you,  who,  if  you  had  your 
due,  should  have  been  let  alone  to  grow  old,  and  die  in  the 
state  of  tyranny,  as  your  father  did  before  you,  should  now 


TI^T.OLEON. 


389 


enjoy  the  ease  of  private  persons,  and  be  here  to  sport  and 
frolic  it  in  our  society  ? ’’  So  that  when  I compare  those  sad 
stones  of  Philistus,  touching  the  daughters  of  Leptines,  where 
he  makes  pitiful  moan  on  their  behalf,  as  fallen  from  all  the 
blessings  and  advantages  of  powerful  greatness  to  the  miseries 
of  an  humble  life,  they  seem  to  me  like  the  lamentations  of  a 
woman  who  has  lost  her  box  of  ointment,  her  purple  dresses, 
and  her  golden  trinkets.  Such  anecdotes  will  not,  I con- 
iceive,  be  thought  either  foreign  to  my  purpose  of  writing 
Lives,  or  unprofitable  in  themselves,  by  such  readers  as  are 
not  in  too  much  haste,  or  busied  and  taken  up  with  other 
concerns. 

But  if  the  misfortune  of  Dionysius  appears  strange  and 
extraordinary,  we  shall  haye  no  less  reason  to  wonder  at  the 
good  fortune  of  Tiftioleon,  who,  within  fifty  days  after  his 
landing  in  Sicily,  both  recovered  the  citadel  of  Syracuse,  and 
sent  Dionysius  an  exile  into  Peloponnesus.  This  lucky  begin- 
ning so  animated  the  Corinthians,  that  they  ordered  him  a 
supply  of  two  thousand  foot  and  two  hundred  horse,  who, 
reaching  Thurii,  intended  to  cross  over  thence  into  Sicily  ; 
but  finding  the  whole  sea  beset  with  Carthaginian  ships, 
which  made  their  passage  impracticable,  they  were  constrained 
to  stop  there,  and  watch  their  opportunity  : which  time,  how- 
ever, was  employed  in  a noble  action.  For  the  Thurians, 
going  out  to  war  against  their  Bruttian  enemies,  left  their  city 
in  charge  with  these  Corinthian  strangers,  who  defended  it  as 
carefully  as  if  it  had  been  their  own  country,  and  faithfully 
resigned  it  up  again. 

Hicetes,  in  the  interim,  continued  still  to  besiege  the 
castle  of  Syracuse,  and  hindered  all  provisions  from  coming 
in  by  sea  to  relieve  the  Corinthians  that  were  in  it.  He  had 
engaged  also,  and  despatched  towards  Adranum,  two  un- 
known foreigners  to  assassinate  Timoleon,  who  at  no  time 
kept  any  standing  guard  about  his  person,  and  was  then  alto- 
gether secure,  diverting  himself,  without  any  apprehension, 
among  the  citizens  of  the  place,  it  being  a festival  in  honor 
of  their  gods.  The  two  men  that  were  sent,  having  casually 
heard  that  Timoleon  was  about  to  sacrifice,  came  directly 
into  the  temple  with  poniards  under  their  cloaks,  and  pressing 
in  among  the  crowd,  by  little  and  little  got  up  close  to  the 
altar  ; but,  as  they  were  just  looking  for  a sign  from  each 
other  to  begin  the  attempt,  a third  person  struck  one  of  them 
over  the  head  with  a sword,  upon  whose  sudden  fall,  neither 
he  that  gave  the  blow,  nor  the  partisan  of  him  that  re- 


90 


TIMOLEON. 


ceived  it,  kept  their  stations  any  longer  ; but  the  one, 
making  way  with  his  bloody  sword,  put  no  stop  to  his 
flight,  till  he  gained  the  top  of  a certain  lofty  precipice, 
while  the  other,  laying  hold  of  the  altar,  besought  Timoleon 
to  spare  his  life,  and  he  would  reveal  to  him  the  whole  con 
spiracy.  His  pardon  being  granted,  he  confessed  that  both 
himself  and  his  dead  companion  were  sent  thither  purposely 
to  slay  him.  While  this  discovery  was  made,  he  that  killed 
the  other  conspirator  had  been  fetched  down  from  his  sanct- 
uary of  the  rock,  loudly  and  often  protesting,  as  he  came 
along,  that  there  was  no  injustice  in  the  fact,  as  he  had  only 
taken  righteous  vengeance  for  his  father’s  blood,  whom  this 
man  had  murdered  before  in  the  city  of  Leontini  ; the  truth 
of  which  was  attested  by  several  there  present,  who  could  not 
choose  but  wonder  too  at  the  strange  dexterity  of  fortune’s 
operations,  the  facility  with  which  she  makes  one  event  the 
spring  and  motion  to  something  wholly  different,  uniting 
every  scattered  accident  and  lose  particular  and  remote  action, 
and  interweaving  them  together  to  serve  her  purposes  ; sc 
that  things  that  in  themselves  seem  to  have  no  connection  or 
;nterdependence  whatsoever,  become  in  her  hands,  so  to  say, 
the  end  and  the  beginning  of  each  other.  The  Corinthians, 
satisfied  as  to  the  innocence  of  this  seasonable  feat,  honored 
and  rewarded  the  author  with  a present  of  ten  pounds  in  their 
money,  since  he  had,  as  it  were,  lent  the  use  of  his  just  resent- 
ment to  the  tutelar  genius  that  seemed  to  be  protecting 
Timoleon,  and  had  not  preexpended  this  anger,  so  long  ago 
conceived,  but  had  reserved  and  deferred,  under  fortune’s 
guidance,  for  his  preservation,  the  revenge  of  a private  quar- 
rel. 

But  this  fortunate  escape  had  effects  and  consequences 
beyond  the  present,  as  it  inspired  the  highest  hopes  and 
future  expectations  of  Timoleon,  making  people  reverence 
and  protect  him  as  a sacred  person  sent  by  heaven  to  revenge 
and  redeem  Sicily.  Hicetes,  having  missed  his  aim  in  this 
enterprise,  and  perceiving,  also,  that  many  went  off  and  sided 
with  Timoleon,  began  to  chide  himself  for  his  foolish  modesty, 
that,  when  so  considerable  a force  of  the  Carthaginians  lay 
ready  to  be  commanded  by  him,  he  had  employed  them 
hitherto  by  degrees  and  in  small  numbers,  introducing  theii 
reinforcements  by  stealth  and  clandestinely,  as  if  he  had  been 
ashamed  of  the  action.  Therefore,  now  laying  aside  his 
former  nicety,  he  calls  in  Mago,  their  admiral,  with  his  whole 
navy,  who  presently  set  sail,  and  seized  upon  the  port  with  a 


TIMOLEON. 


391 

formidable  fleet  of  at  least  a hundred  and  fifty  vessels,  land- 
ing there  sixty  thousand  foot,  which  were  all  lodged  within 
the  city  of  Syracuse  ; so  that,  in  all  men’s  opinion,  the  time 
anciently  talked  of  and  long  expected,  wherein  Sicily  should 
be  subjugated  by  barbarians,  was  now  come  to  its  fatal  period. 
For  in  all  their  preceding  wars  and  many  desperate  conflicts 
with  Sicily,  the  Carthaginians  had  never  been  able,  before 
this,  to  take  Syracuse  ; whereas  Hicetes  now  receiving  them, 
and  putting  them  into  their  hands,  you  might  see  it  become 
now  as  it  were  a camp  of  barbarians.  By  this  means,  the 
Corinthian  soldiers  that  kept  the  castle  found  themselves 
l)rought  into  great  danger  and  hardship  ; as,  besides  that 
their  provision  grew  scarce,  and  they  began  to  be  in  want, 
because  the  havens  were  strictly  guarded  and  blocked  up, 
the  enemy  exercised  them  still  with  skirmishes  and  combats 
about  their  walls,  and  they  were  not  only  obliged  to  be  con- 
tinually in  arms,  but  to  divide  and  prepare  themselves  for 
assaults  and  encounters  of  every  kind,  and  to  repel  every 
(variety  of  the  means  of  offence  employed  by  a besieging  army. 

Timoleon  made  shift  to  relieve  them  in  these  straits,  send- 
ing corn  from  Catana  by  small  fishing-boats  and  little  skiffs, 
which  commonly  gained  a passage  through  the  Carthaginian 
galleys  in  times  of  storm,  stealing  up  when  the  blockading 
ships  were  driven  apart  and  dispersed  by  the  stress  of  weather  ; 
which  Mago  and  Hicetes  observing,  they  agreed  to  fall  upon 
Catana,  from  whence  these  supplies  were  brought  in  to  the 
besieged,  and  accordingly  put  off  from  Syracuse,  taking  with 
them  the  best  soldiers  in  their  whole  army.  Upon  this  Neon 
the  Corinthian,  who  was  captain  of  those  that  kept  the  citadel, 
taking  notice  that  the  enemies  who  stayed  there  behind  were 
very  negligent  and  careless  in  keeping  guard  made  a sudden 
sally  upon  them  as  they  lay  scattered,  and,  killing  some  and 
putting  others  to  flight,  he  took  and  possessed  himself  of  that 
quarter  which  they  call  Acradina,  and  was  thought  to  be  the 
strongest  and  most  impregnable  part  of  Syracuse,  a city  made 
up  and  compacted,  as  it  were,  of  several  towns  put  together. 
Having  thus  stored  himself  with  corn  and  money,  he  did  not 
abandon  the  place,  nor  retire  again  into  the  castle,  but  fortify- 
ing the  precincts  of  Acradina,  and  joining  it  by  works  to 
the  citadel,  he  undertook  the  defence  of  both.  Mago  and 
Hicetes  were  now  come  near  to  Catana,  when  a horseman, 
despatched  from  Syracuse,  brought  them  tidings  that  Acra- 
dina was  taken  ; upon  which  they  returned,  in  all  haste,  with 
great  disorder  and  confusion,  having  neither  been  able  to 


392 


TIMOLEON. 


reduce  the  city  they  went  against,  nor  to  preserve  that  they 
were  masters  of. 

These  successes,  indeed,  were  such  as  might  leave  foresight 
and  courage  a pretence  still  of  disputing  it  with  fortune,  which 
contributed  most  to  the  result.  But  the  next  following  event 
can  scarcely  be  ascribed  to  any  thing  but  p ure  felicity.  The 
Corinthian  soldiers  who  stayed  at  Thurii,  partly  for  fear  of 
the  Carthaginian  galleys  which  lay  in  wait  for  them  under  the 
command  of  Hanno,  and  partly  because  of  tempestuous 
weather  which  had  lasted  for  many  days,  and  rendered  the 
sea  dangerous,  took  a resolution  to  march  by  land  over  the 
Bruttian  territories,  and  what  with  persuasion  and  force 
together,  made  good  their  passage  through  those  barbarians 
to  the  city  of  Rhegium,  the  sea  being  still  rough  and  raging 
as  before.  But  Hanno,  not  expecting  the  Corinthians  would 
venture  out,  and  supposing  it  would  be  useless  to  wait  there 
any  longer,  bethought  himself,  as  he  imagined,  of  a most 
ingenious  and  clever  stratagem  apt  to  delude  and  ensnare  the 
enemy  ; in  pursuance  of  which  he  commanded  the  seamen  to 
crown  themselves  with  garlands,  and  adorning  his  galleys  with 
bucklers  both  of  the  Greek  and  Carthaginian  make,  he  sailed 
away  for  Syracuse  in  this  triumphant  equipage,  and  using  all 
his  oars  as  he  passed  under  the  castle  with  much  shouting 
and  laughter,  cried  out,  on  purpose  to  dishearten  the  besieged, 
that  he  was  come  from  vanquishing  and  taking  the  Corinthian 
succors,  which  he  fell  upon  at  sea  as  they  were  passing  over 
into  Sicily.  While  he  was  thus  trifling  and  playing  his  tricks 
before  Syracuse,  the  Corinthians,  now  come  as  far  as  Rhegium, 
observing  the  coast  clear,  and  that  the  wind  was  laid  as  it 
were  by  miracle,  to  afford  them  in  all  appearance  a quiet  and 
smooth  passage,  went  immediately  aboard  on  such  little  barks 
and  fishing-boats  as  were  then  at  hand,  and  got  over  to  Sicily 
with  such  complete  safety  and  in  such  an  extraordinary  calm, 
that  they  drew  their  horses  by  the  reins,  swimming  along  by 
them  as  the  vessels  went  across. 

When  they  were  all  landed,  Timoleon  came  to  receive 
them,  and  by  their  means  at  once  obtained  possession  of 
Messena,  from  whence  he  marched  in  good  order  to  Syracuse, 
trusting  more  to  his  late  prosperous  achievements  than  his 
present  strength,  as  the  whole  army  he  had  then  with  him  did 
not  exceed  the  number  of  four  thousand  : Mago,  however, 
was  troubled  and  fearful  at  the  first  notice  of  his  coming,  and 
grew  more  apprehensive  and  jealous  still  upon  the  following 
occasion.  The  marshes  about  Syracuse,  that  receive  a great 


TIMOLEON. 


393 


deul  of  fresh  water,  as  well  from  springs  as  from  lakes  and 
rivers  discharging  themselves  into  the  sea,  breed  abundance 
of  eels,  which  may  be  always  taken  there  in  great  quantities 
by  any  that  will  fish  for  them.  The  mercenary  soldiers  that 
served  on  both  sides,  were  wont  to  follow  the  sport  together 
at  their  vacant  hours,  and  upon  any  cessation  of  arms  ; who 
being  all  Greeks,  and  having  no  cause  of  private  enmity  to 
each  other,  as  they  would  venture  bravely  in  fight,  so  in  times 
of  truce  used  to  meet  and  converse  amicably  together.  And 
at  this  present  time,  while  engaged  about  this  common  busi- 
ness of  fishing,  they  fell  into  talk  together ; and  some  ex- 
pressing their  admiration  of  the  neighboring  sea,  and  others 
telling  how  much  they  were  taken  with  the  convenience  and 
commodiousness  of  the  buildings  and  public  works,  one  of  the 
Corinthian  party  took  occasion  to  demand  of  the  others  : 
‘‘  And  is  it  possible  that  you  who  are  Grecians  born,  should 
be  so  forward  to  reduce  a city  of  this  greatness,  and  enjoying 
so  many  rare  advantages,  into  the  state  of  barbarism  ; and 
lend  your  assistance  to  plant  Carthaginians,  that  are  the 
worst  and  bloodiest  of  men,  so  much  the  nearer  to  us  ? whereas 
you  should  rather  wish  there  were  many  more  Sicilies  to  lie 
between  them  and  Greece.  Have  you  so  little  sense  as  to 
believe,  that  they  come  hither  with  an  army,  from  the  Pillars 
of  Hercules  and  the  Atlantic  Sea,  to  hazard  themselves  for 
the  establishment  of  Hicetes  ? who,  if  he  had  had  the  con- 
sideration which  becomes  a general,  would  never  have  thrown 
out  his  ancestors  and  founders  to  bring  in  the  enemies  of  his 
country  in  the  room  of  them,  when  he  might  have  enjoyed  all 
suitable  honor  and  command,  with  consent  of  Timoleon  and 
the  rest  of  Corinth.’’  The  Greeks  that  were  in  pay  with 
Hicetes,  noising  these  discourses  about  their  camp,  gave 
Mago  some  ground  to  suspect,  as  indeed  he  had  long  sought 
for  a pretence  to  be  gone,  that  there  was  treachery  contrived 
against  him  ; so  that,  although  Hicetes  entreated  him  to 
tarry,  and  made  it  appear  how  much  stronger  they  were  than 
the  enemy,  yet,  conceiving  they  came  far  more  short  of  Tiino- 
leon  in  respect  of  courage  and  fortune,  than  they  surpassed 
him  in  number,  he  presently  went  aboard  and  set  sail  for 
Africa,  letting  Sicily  escape  out  of  his  hands  with  dishonor  to 
himself,  and  for  such  uncertain  causes,  that  no  human  reason 
could  give  an  account  of  his  departure. 

The  day  after  he  went  away,  Timoleon  came  up  before  the 
city,  in  array  for  a battle.  But  when  he  and  his  company 
heard  of  this  sudden  flight,  and  saw  the  docks  all  empty,  thej 


394 


TIMOLEON. 


could  not  forbear  laughing  at  the  cowardice  of  Mago,  and  in 
mockery  caused  proclamation  to  be  made  through  the  city, 
that  a reward  would  be  given  to  any  one  who  could  bring 
them  tidings  whither  the  Carthaginian  fleet  had  conveyed 
itself  from  them.  However,  Hicetes  resolving  to  fight  it  out 
alone,  and  not  quitting  his  hold  of  the  city,  but  sticking  close 
to  the  quarters  he  was  in  possession  of,  places  that  were  well 
foitified  and  not  easy  to  be  attacked,  Timoleon  divided  his 
forces  into  three  parts,  and  fell  himself  upon  the  side  where 
the  river  Anapus  ran,  which  was  most  strong  and  difficult  of 
access  ; and  he  commanded  tiiose  that  were  led  by  Isias,  a 
Corinthian  captain,  to  make  their  assault  from  the  post  of 
Acradina,  while  Dinarchus  and  Demaretus,  that  brought  him 
the  last  supply  from  Corinth,  were,  with  a third  division,  to 
attempt  the  quarter  called  Epipolae.  A considerable  impres- 
sion being  made  from  every  side  at  once,  the  soldiers  of 
Hicetes  were  beaten  off  and  put  to  flight  ; and  this, — that  the 
city  came  to  be  taken  by  storm,  and  fall  suddenly  into  their 
hands,  upon  the  defeat  and  rout  of  the  enemy, — we  must 
in  all  justice  ascribe  to  the  valor  of  the  assailants,  and  the 
wise  conduct  of  their  general ; but  that  not  so  much  as  a 
man  of  the  Corinthians  was  either  slain  or  wounded  in  the 
action,  this  the  good  fortune  of  Timoleon  seems  to  challenge 
for  her  own  work,  as  though,  in  a sort  of  rivalry  with  his  own 
personal  exertions,  she  made  it  her  aim  to  exceed  and  obscure 
his  actions  by  her  favors,  that  those  who  heard  him  com- 
mended for  his  noble  deeds  might  rather  admire  the  happi- 
ness than  the  merit  of  them.  For  the  fame  of  what  was  done 
not  only  passed  through  all  Sicily,  and  filled  Italy  with 
wonder,  but  even  Greece  itself,  after  a few  days,  came  to 
ring  with  the  greatness  of  his  exploit  ; insomuch  that  those 
of  Corinth,  who  had  as  yet  no  certainty  that  their  auxiliaries 
were  landed  on  the  island,  had  tidings  brought  them  at  the 
same  time  that  they  were  safe  and  were  conquerors.  In  so 
prosperous  a course  did  affairs  run,  and  such  was  the  speed 
and  celerity  of  execution  with  which  fortujie,  as  with  a new 
ornament,  set  off  the  native  lustres  of  the  performance. 

Timoleon,  being  master  of  the  citadel,  avoided  the  error 
which  Dion  had  been  guilty  of.  He  spared  not  the  place  for 
the  beauty  and  sumptuousness  of  its  fabric,  and,  keeping 
clear  of  those  suspicions  which  occasioned  first  the  unpopu- 
larity and  afterwards  the  fall  of  Dion,  made  a public  crier  give 
notice,  th,at  all  the  Syracusans  who  were  willing  to  have  a 
hand  in  the  w^ork,  should  bring  pick-axes  and  mattocks,  and 


TIMOLEON. 


395 


other  instruments,  and  help  him  to  demolish  the  fortifications 
of  the  tryants.  When  they  all  came  up  with  one  accord, 
looking  upon  thatx>rder  and  that  day  as  the  surest  foundation 
of  their  liberty,  they  not  only  pulled  down  the  castle,  but 
overturned  the  palaces  and  monuments  adjoining,  and  what- 
ever else  might  preserve  any  memory  of  former  tyrants.  Hav- 
ing soon  levelled  and  cleared  the  place,  he  there  presently 
erected  courts  for  administration  of  justice,  ratifying  the 
citizens  by  thiS  means,  and  building  popular  government  on 
the  fall  and  ruin  of  tyranny.  But  since  he  had  recovered  a 
city  destitute  of  inhabitants,  some  of  them  dead  in  civil  wars 
and  insurrections,  and  others  being  fled  to  escape  tyrants, 
so  that  through  solitude  and  want  of  people  the  great  market- 
place of  Syracuse  was  overgrown  with  such  quantity  of  rank 
herbage  that  it  became  a pasture  for  their  horses,  the  grooms 
lying  along  in  the  grass  as  they  fed  by  them  ; while  also  other 
towns,  very  few  excepted,  were  become  full  of  stags  and  wild 
boars,  so  that  those  who  had  nothing  else  to  do  went  frequently 
a hunting,  and  found  game  in  the  suburbs  and  about  the  walls  ; 
and  not  one  of  those  who  possessed  themselves  of  castles,  or 
made  garrisons  in  the  country,  could  be  persuaded  to  quit 
their  present  abode,  or  would  accept  an  invitation  to  return 
back  into  the  city,  so  much  did  they  all  dread  and  abhor  the 
very  name  of  assemblies  and  forms  of  government  and  public 
speaking,  that  had  produced  the  greater  part  of  those  usurpers 
who  had  successively  assumed  a dominion  over  them, — 
Timoleon,  therefore,  with  the  Syracusans  that  remained,  con- 
sidering this  vast  desolation,  and  how  little  hope  there  was 
to  have  it  otherwise  supplied,  thought  good  to  write  to  the 
Corinthians,  requesting  that  they  would  send  a colony  out  of 
Greece  to  repeople  Syracuse.  For  else  the  land  about  it 
would  lie  unimproved  ; and  besides  this,  they  expected  to  be 
involved  in  a greater  war  from  Africa,  having  news  brought 
them  that  Mago  had  killed  himself,  and  that  the  Carthaginians, 
out  of  rage  for  his  ill  conduct  in  the  late  expedition,  had 
caused  his  body  to  be  nailed  upon  a cross,  and  that  they 
were  raising  a mighty  force,  with  design  to  make  their  descent 
upon  Sicily  the  next  summer. 

These  letters  from  Timoleon  being  delivered  at  Corinth, 
and  the  ambassadors  of  Syracuse  beseeching  them  at  the 
same  time,  that  they  would  take  upon  them  the  care  of  their 
poor  city,  and  once  again  oecome  the  founders  of  it,  the 
Corinthians  were  not  tempted  by  any  feeling  of  cupidity  to 
lay  hold  of  the  advantage.  Nor  did  they  seize  and  appro 


396 


TIMOLEON. 


priate  the  city  to  themselves,  but  going  about  first  to  the 
games  that  are  kept  as  sacred  in  Greece,  and  to  the  most 
numerously  attended  religious  assemblages,  they  made  pub' 
lication  by  heralds,  that  the  Corinthians,  having  destroyed  the 
usurpation  at  Syracuse  and  driven  out  the  tyrant,  did  thereby 
invite  the  Syracusan  exiles,  and  any  other  Siceliols,  to  return 
and  inhabit  the  city,  with  full  enjoyment  of  freedom  under  their 
own  laws,,  the  land  being  divided  among  them  in  just  and 
equal  proportions.  And  after  this,  sending  messengers  into 
Asia  and  the  several  islands  where  they  understood  that  most 
of  the  scattered  fugitives  were  then  residing,  they  bade  them 
all  repair  to  Corinth,  engaging  that  the  Corinthians  would 
afford  them  vessels  and  commanders,  and  a safe  convoy,  at 
their  own  charges,  to  Syracuse.  Such  generous  proposals, 
being  thus  spread  about,  gained  them  the  just  and  honorable 
recompense  of  general  praise  and  benediction,  for  delivering 
the  country  from  oppressors,  and  saving  it  fr^m  barbarians, 
and  restoring  it  at  length  to  the  rightful  owners  of  the  place. 
These,  when  they  were  assembled  at  Corinth,  and  found  how 
insufficient  their  company  was,  besought  the  Corinthians  that 
they  might  have  a supplement  of  other  persons,  as  well  out  of 
their  city  as  the  rest  of  Greece,  to  go  with  them  as  joint 
colonists ; and  so  raising  themselves  to  the  number  of  ten  thou 
sand,  they  sailed  together  to  Syracuse.  By  this  time  great 
multitudes,  also,  from  Italy  and  Sicily  had  flocked  in  to 
Timoleon,  so  that,  as  Athanis  reports,  their  entire  body 
amounted  now  to  sixty  thousand  men.  Among  these  he  divi- 
ded the  whole  territory,  and  sold  the  houses  for  a thousand 
talents  ; by  which  method,  he  both  left  it  in  the  power  of  the 
old  Syracusans  to  redeem  their  own,  and  made  it  a means 
also  for  raising  a stock  for  the  community,  which  had  been  so 
much  impovershed  of  late  and  was  so  unable  to  defray  other 
expenses,  and  especially  those  of  a war,  that  they  exposed 
their  very  statues  to  sale,  a regular  process  being  observed, 
and  sentence  of  auction  passed  upon  each  of  them  by  majority 
of  votes,  as  if  they  had  been  so  many  criminals  taking  their 
trial  ; in  the  course  of  which  it  is  said  that  while  condemna- 
tion was  pronounced  upon  all  other  statues,  that  of  the 
ancient  usurper  Gelo  was  exempted,  out  of  admiration  and 
honor  and  for  the  sake  of  the  victory  he  gained  over  the  Car- 
thaginian forces  at  the  river  Himera. 

Syracuse  being  thus  happily  revived,  and  replenished 
again  by  the  general  concourse  of  inhabitants  from  all  parts, 
Timoleon  was  desirous  now  to  rescue  other  cities  from  the 


TIMOLEON. 


397 


like  bondage,  and  wholly  and  once  for  all  to  extirpate  arbi- 
trary government  out  of  Sicily.  And  for  this  purpose,  march- 
ing into  the  territories  of  those  that  used  it,  he  compelled 
Hicetes  first  to  renounce  the  Carthaginian  interest,  and, 
demolishing  the  fortresses  which  were  held  by  him,  to  live 
henceforth  among  the  Leontinians  as  a private  person. 
Leptines,  also,  the  tyrant  of  Apollonia  and  divers  other  little 
towns,  after  some  resistance  made,  seeing  the  danger  he  was 
in  of  being  taken  by  force,  surrendered  himself ; upon  which 
Timoleon  spared  his  life,  and  sent  him  away  to  Corinth,  count- 
ing it  a glorious  thing  that  the  mother  city  should  expose  to 
the  view  of  other  Greeks  these  Sicilian  tyrants,  living  now 
in  an  exiled  and  a low  condition.  After  this  he  returned  to 
Syracuse,  that  he  might  have  leisure  to  attend  to  the  establish- 
ment of  the  new  constitution,  and  assist  Cephalus  and  Diony- 
sius, who  were  sent  from  Corinth  to  make  laws,  in  determining 
the  most  important  points  of  it.  In  the  meanwhile,  desirous 
that  his  hired  soldiers  should  not  want  action,  but  might 
rather  enrich  themselves  by  some  plunder  from  the  enemy, 
he  despatched  Dinarchus  and  Demaretus  with  a portion  of 
them  into  the  part  of  the  island  belonging  to  the  Carthaginians, 
where  they  obliged  several  cities  to  revolt  from  the  barbarians, 
and  not  only  lived  in  great  abundance  themselves,  but  raised 
money  from  their  spoil  to  carry  on  the  war. 

Meantime,  the  Carthaginians  landed  at  the  promontory 
of  Lilybaeum,  bringing  with  them  an  army  of  seventy  thousand 
men  on  board  two  hundred  galleys,  besides  a thousand  other 
vessels  laden  with  engines  of  battery,  chariots,  corn,  and  other 
military  stores,  as  if  they  did  not  intend  to  manage  the  war 
by  piecemeal  and  in  parts  as  heretofore,  but  to  drive  the 
Greeks  altogether  and  at  once  out  of  all  Sicily.  And  indeed 
it  was  a force  sufficient  to  overpower  the  Siceliots,  even  though 
they  had  been  at  perfect  union  among  themselves,  and  had  never 
been  enfeebled  by  intestine  quarrels.  Hearing  that  part  of 
their  subject  territory  was  suffering  devastation,  they  forth- 
with made  toward  the  Corinthians  with  great  fury,  having 
Asdrubal  and  Hamilcar  for  their  generals  ; the  report  of 
whose  numbers  and  strength  coming  suddenly  to  Syracuse, 
the  citizens  were  so  terrified,  that  hardly  three  thousand^ 
among  so  many  myriads  of  them,  had  the  courage  to  take 
up  arms  and  join  Timoleon.  The  foreigners,  serving  for  pay, 
were  not  above  four  thousand  in  all,  and  about  a thousand  of 
these  grew  faint-hearted  by  the  way,  and  forsook  Timoleon  in 
his  march  towards  the  enemy,  looking  on  him  as  frantic  and 


398 


TIMOLEON. 


distracted,  destitute  of  the  sense  which  might  have  been  ex- 
pected from  his  time  of  life,  thus  to  venture  out  against  an 
army  of  seventy  thousand  men,  with  no  more  than  five  thou- 
sand foot  and  a thousand  horse  ; and,  when  he  should  have 
kept  those  forces  to  defend  the  city,  choosing  rather  to  remove 
them  eight  days^  journey  from  Syracuse,  so  that  if  they  were 
beaten  from  the  field,  they  would  have  no  retreat,  nor  any 
burial  if  they  fell  upon  it.  Timoleon,  however,  reckoned  it 
some  kind  of  advantage,  that  these  had  thus  discovered  them- 
selves before  the  battle,  and  encouraging  the  rest,  led  them 
with  all  speed  to  the  river  Crimesus,  where  it  was  told  him 
the  Carthaginians  were  drawn  together. 

As  he  was  marching  up  an  ascent,  from  the  top  of  which 
they  expected  to  have  a view  of  the  army  and  of  the  strength 
of  the  enemy,  there  met  him  by  chance  a train  of  mules  loaded 
with  parsley  ; which  his  soldiers  conceived  to  be  an  ominous 
occurrence  or  ill-boding  token,  because  this  is  the  herb  with 
which  we  not  unfrequently  adorn  the  sepulchres  of  the  dead  ; 
and  there  is  a proverb  derived  from  the  custom,  used  of  one 
who  is  dangerously  sick,  that  he  has  need  of  nothing  but 
parsley.  So  to  ease  their  minds,  and  free  them  from  any  super- 
stitious thoughts  or  forebodings  of  evil,  Timoleon  halted,  and 
concluded  an  address,  suitable  to  the  occasion,  by  saying, 
that  a garland  of  triumph  was  here  luckily  brought  them,  and 
had  fallen  into  their  hands  of  its  own  accord,  as  an  anticipa- 
tion of  victory : the  same  with  which  the  Corinthians  crown 
the  victors  in  the  Isthmian  games,  accounting  chaplets  of 
parsley  the  sacred  wreath  proper  to  their  country  ; parsley 
being  at  that  time  still  the  emblem  of  victory  at  the  Isthmian, 
as  it  is  now  at  the  Nemean  sports  ; and  it  is  not  so  very 
long  ago  that  the  pine  first  began  to  be  used  in  its  place. 

Timoleon,  therefore,  having  thus  bespoke  his  soldiers, 
took  part  of  the  parsley,  and  with  it  made  himself  a chaplet 
first,  his  captains  and  their  companies  all  following  the  ex- 
ample of  their  leader.  The  soothsayers  then,  observing  also 
two  eagles  on  the  wing  towards  them,  one  of  which  bore  a 
snake  struck  through  with  her  talons,  and  the  other,  as  she 
tlew,  uttered  a loud  cry  indicating  boldness  and  assurance,  at 
once  showed  them  to  the  soldiers,  who  with  one  consent  fell  to 
supplicate  the  gods,  and  call  them  in  to  their  assistance.  It 
was  now  about  the  beginning  of  summer,  and  conclusion  of 
the  month  called  Thargelion,  not  far  from  the  solstice  ; and 
the  river  sending  up  a thick  mist,  all  the  adjacent  plain  was 
at  first  darkened  with  the  fog,  so  that  for  a while  they  could 


TIMOLEON. 


399 


discern  nothing  from  the  enemy’s  camp ; only  a confused 
buzz  and  undistinguished  mixture  of  voices  came  up  to  the  hill 
from  the  distant  motions  and  clamors  of  so  vast  a multitude. 
When  the  Corinthians  had  mounted,  and  stood  on  the  top, 
and  had  laid  down  their  bucklers  to  take  breath  and  repose 
themselves,  the  sun  coming  round  and  drawing  up  the  vapors 
from  below,  the  gross  foggy  air  that  was  now  gathered  and 
condensed  above  formed  in  a cloud  upon  the  mountains  j 
and,  all  the  under  places  being  clear  and  open,  the  river 
Crimesus  appeared  to  them  again,  and  they  could  descry  the 
enemies  passing  over  it,  first  with  their  formidable  four  horse 
chariots  of  war,  and  then  ten  thousand  footmen  bearing  white 
shields,  whom  they  guessed  to  be  all  Carthaginians,  from  the 
splendor  of  their  arfns,  and  the  slowness  and  order  of  their 
march.  And  when  now  the  troops  of  various  other  nations, 
flowing  in  behind  them,  began  to  throng  for  passage  in  a 
tumultuous  and  unruly  manner,  Timoleon,  perceiving  that 
the  river  gave  them  opportunity  to  single  off  whatever  number 
of  their  enemies  they  had  a mind  to  engage  at  once,  and  bid- 
ding his  soldiers  observe  how  their  forces  were  divided  into 
two  separate  bodies  by  the  intervention  of  the  stream,  some 
being  already  over,  and  others  still  to  ford  it,  gave  Demaretus 
command  to  fall  in  upon  the  Carthaginians  with  his  horse, 
and  disturb  their  ranks  before  they  should  be  drawn  up  into 
form  of  battle  ; and  coming  down  into  the  plain  himself  form- 
ing his  right  and  left  wing  of  other  Sicilians,  intermingling 
only  a few  strangers  in  each,  he  placed  the  natives  of  Syra- 
cuse in  the  middle,  with  the  stoutest  mercenaries  he  had 
about  his  own  person  ; and,  waiting  a little  to  observe  the 
action  of  his  horse,  when  they  saw  they  were  not  only  hin- 
dered from  grappling  with  the  Carthaginians  by  the  armed 
chariots  that  ran  to  and  fro  before  the  army,  but  forced  con- 
tinually to  wheel  about  to  escape  having  their  ranks  broken, 
and  so  to  repeat  their  charges  anew,  he  took  his  buckler  in 
his  hand,  and  crying  out  to  the  foot  that  they  should  follow 
him  with  courage  and  confidence,  he  seemed  to  speak  with  a 
more  than  human  accent,  and  a voice  stronger  than  ordinary ; 
whether  it  were  that  he  naturally  raised  it  so  high  in  the 
vehemence  and  ardor  with  his  mind  to  assault  the  enemy,  or 
else,  as  many  then  thought,  some  god  or  other  spoke  with 
him.  When  his  soldiers  quickly  gave  an  echo  to  it,  and  be- 
sought him  to  lead  them  on  without  any  further  delay,  he 
made  a sign  to  the  horse,  that  they  should  draw  off  from  the 
front  where  the  chariots  were,  and  pass  sidewards  to  attack 


400 


TIMOLEON. 


their  enemies  in  the  flank ; then,  making  his  vanguard  firm 
by  joining  man  to  man  and  buckler  to  buckler,  he  caused  the 
trumpet  to  sound,  and  so  bore  in  upon  the  Carthaginians. 

They,  for  their  part,  stoutly  received  and  sustained  his 
first  onset ; and  having  their  bodies  armed  with  breast-plates 
of  iron,  and  helmets  of  brass  on  their  heads,  besides  great 
bucklers  to  cover  and  secure  them,  they  could  easily  repel 
the  charge  of  the  Greek  spears.  But  when  the  business  came 
to  a decision  by  the  sword,  where  mastery  depends  no  less 
upon  art  than  strength,  all  on  a sudden  from  the  mountain 
tops  violent  peals  of  thunder  and  vivid  flashes  of  lightning 
broke  out ; following  upon  which  the  darkness,  that  had  been 
hovering  about  the  higher  grounds  and  the  crests  of  the  hills, 
descending  to  the  place  of  battle  and  bringing  a tempest  of 
rain  and  of  wind  and  hail  along  with  it,  was  driven  upon  the 
Greeks  behind,  and  fell  only  at  their  backs,  but  discharged 
itself  in  the  very  faces  of  the  barbarians,  the  rain  beating  on 
them,  and  the  lightning  dazzling  them  without  cessation ; 
annoyances  that  in  many  ways  distressed  at  any  rate  the  in- 
experienced, who  had  not  been  used  to  such  hardships,  and. 
in  particular,  the  claps  of  thunder,  and  the  noise  of  the  rain 
and  hail  beating  on  their  arms,  kept  them  from  hearing  the 
commands  of  their  officers.  Besides  which,  the  very  mud 
also  was  a great  hinderance  to  the  Carthaginians,  who  were 
not  lightly  equipped,  but,  as  I said  before,  loaded  with  heavy 
armor;  and  then  their  shirts  underneath  getting  drenched, 
the  foldings  about  the  bosom  filled  with  water,  grew  un- 
wieldy and  cumbersome  to  them  as  they  fought,  and  made  it 
easy  for  the  Greeks  to  throw  them  down,  and,  when  they 
were  once  down,  impossible  for  them,  under  that  weight,  to 
disengage  themselves  and  ris^  again  with  weapons  in  their 
hand.  The  river  Crimesus,  too,  swollen  partly  by  the  rain, 
and  partly  by  the  stoppage  of  its  course  with  the  numbers 
that  were  passing  through,  overflowed  its  banks  ; and  the 
I level  ground  by  the  side  of  it,  being  so  situated  as  to  have  a 
number  of  small  ravines  and  hollows  of  the  hill-side  descend- 
ing upon  it,  was  now  filled  with  rivulets  and  currents  that  had 
no  certain  channel,  in  which  the  Carthaginians  stumbled  and 
rolled  about,  and  found  themselves  in  great  difficulty.  So 
that,  in  fine,  the  storm  bearing  still  upon  them,  and  the 
Greeks  having  cut  in  pieces  four  hundred  men  of  their  first 
ranks,  the  whole  body  of  their  army  began  to  fly.  Great 
numbers  were  overtaken  in  the  plain,  and  put  to  the  sword 
there  ; and  many  of  them,  as  they  were  making  their  way 


TIMOLEON. 


401 


back  through  the  river,  falling  foul  upon  others  that  were  yet 
coming  over,  were  borne  away  and  overwhelmed  by  the 
waters  ; but  the  major  part,  attempting  to  get  up  the  hill  so 
as  to  make  their  escape,  were  intercepted  and  destroyed  by 
the  light-armed  troops.  It  is  said,  that  of  ten  thousand  who 
lay  dead  after  the  light,  three  thousand,  at  least,  were  Cartha- 
ginian citizens  ; a heavy  loss  and  great  grief  to  their  country- 
men ; those  that  fell  being  men  inferior  to  none  among  them 
as  to  birth,  wealth,  or  reputation.  Nor  do  their  records  men- 
tion that  so  many  native  Carthaginians  were  ever  cut  off 
before  in  any  one  battle  ; as  they  usually  employed  Africans, 
Spaniards,  and  Numidians  in  their  wars,  so  that  if  they 
chanced  to  be  defeated,  it  was  still  at  the  cost  and  damago 
of  other  nations. 

The  Greeks  easily  discovered  of  what  condition  and  at' 
count  the  slain  were,  by  the  richness  of  their  spoils  ; for  whe^ 
they  came  to  collect  the  booty,  there  was  little  reckoning 
made  either  of  brass  or  iron,  so  abundant  were  better  meta' 
and  so  common  were  silver  and  gold.  Passing  over  the  rivc^ 
they  became  masters  of  their  camp  and  carriages.  As  for 
captives,  a great  many  of  them  were  stolen  away,  and  sold 
privately  by  the  soldiers,  but  about  five  thousand  were 
brought  in  and  delivered  up  for  the  benefit  of  the  public ; 
two  hundred  of  their  chariots  of  war  were  also  taken.  The 
tent  of  Timoleon  then  presented  a most  glorious  and  magnifi- 
cent appearance,  being  heaped  up  and  hung  round  with  every 
variety  of  spoils  and  military  ornaments,  among  which  there 
were  a thousand  breastplates  of  rare  workmanship  and  beauty, 
and  bucklers  to  the  number  of  ten  thousand.  The  victors 
being  but  few  to  strip  so  many  that  were  vanquished,  and 
javing  such  valuable  booty  to  occupy  them,  it  was  the  third 
day  after  the  fight  before  they  could  erect  and  finish  the 
trophy  of  their  conquest.  Timoleon  sent  tidings  of  his  victory 
to  Corinth,  with  the  best  and  goodliest  arms  he  had  taken  as 
a proof  of  it ; that  he  thus  might  render  his  country  an  object 
of  emulation  to  the  whole  world,  when,  of  all  the  cities  of 
Greece,  men  should  there  alone  behold  the  chief  temples 
adorned,  not  with  Grecian  spoils,  nor  offerings  obtained  by 
the  bloodshed  and  plunder  of  their  own  countrymen  and 
kindred,  and  attended,  therefore,  with  sad  and  unhappy  re- 
membrances, but  with  such  as  had  been  stripped  from  bar- 
barians and  enemies  to  their  nation,  with  the  noblest  titles 
inscribed  upon  them,  titles  telling  of  the  justice  as  well 
as  fortitude  of  the  conquerors ; namely,  that  the  people  of 

26 


402 


ri\rDLEON. 


Corinth,  and  Timoleon  their  general,  having  redeemed  the 
Greeks  of  Sicily  from  Carthaginian  bondage,  made  oblation 
of  these  to  the  gods,  in  grateful  acknowledgment  of  their 
favor. 

Having  done  this,  he  left  his  hired  soldiers  in  the  enemy’s 
country,  to  drive  and  carry  away  all  they  could  throughout 
the  subject-territory  of  Carthage,  and  so  marched  with  the 
rest  of  his  army  to  Syracuse,  where  he  issued  an  edict  for 
banishing  the  thousand  mercenaries  who  had  basely  deserted 
him  before  the  battle,  and  obliged  them  to  quit  the  city  before 
sunset.  They,  sailing  into  Italy,  lost  their  lives  there  by  the 
hands  of  the  Bruttians,  in  spite  of  a public  assurance  of 
safety  previously  given  them  ; thus  receiving,  from  the  divine 
power,  a just  reward  of  their  own  treachery.  Mamercus,  how- 
ever, the  tyrant  of  Catana,  and  Hicetes,  after  all,  either  envy- 
ing Timoleon  the  glory  of  his  exploits,  or  fearing  him  as  one 
that  would  keep  no  agreement,  or  having  any  peace  with 
tyrants,  made  a league  with  the  Carthaginians,  and  pressed 
them  much  to  send  a new  army  and  commander  into  Sicily, 
unless  they  would  be  content  to  hazard  all,  and  to  be  wholly 
ejected  out  of  that  inland.  And  in  consequence  of  this,  Cisco 
was  despatched  with  a navy  of  seventy  sail.  He  took  numer- 
ous Greek  mercenaries  also  into  pay,  that  being  the  first  time 
they  had  ever  been  enlisted  for  the  Carthaginian  service  ; but 
then  it  seems  the  Carthaginians  began  to  admire  them,  as  the 
most  irresistible  soldiers  of  all  mankind.  Uniting  their  forces 
in  the  territory  of  Messena,  they  cut  off  four  hundred  of 
Timoleon’s  paid  soldiers,  and  within  the  dependencies  of 
Carthage,  at  a place  called  Hierae,  destroyed,  by  an  ambus- 
cade, the  whole  body  of  mercenaries  that  served  under  Euthy- 
mus  the  Leucadian  ; which  accidents,  however,  made  the 
good  fortune  of  Timoleon  accounted  all  the  more  remarkable, 
as  these  were  the  men  that,  with  Philomelus  of  Phocis  and 
Onomarchus,  had  forcibly  broken  into  the  temple  of  Apollo 
at  Delphi,  and  were  partakers  with  them  in  the  sacrilege  ; so 
thai:  being  hated  and  shunned  by  all,  as  persons  under  a 
curse,  they  were  constrained  to  wander  about  in  Pelopon- 
nesus ; when,  for  want  of  others,  Timoleon  was  glad  to  take 
them  into  service  in  his  expedition  for  Sicily,  where  they  were 
successful  in  whatever  enterprise  they  attempted  under  his 
conduct.  But  now,  when  all  the  important  dangers  were 
past,  on  his  sending  them  out  for  the  relief  and  defence  of 
his  party  in  several  places,  they  perished  and  were  destroyed 
at  a distance  from  him,  not  all  together,  but  in  small  parties; 


TIMOLEON. 


403 

and  the  vefTigeance  which  was  destined  for  them,  so  accom- 
modating itself  to  the  good  fortune  which  guarded  Tiinoleon 
as  not  to  allow  any  harm  or  prejudice  for  good  men  to  arise 
from  the  punishment  of  the  wicked,  the  benevolence  and 
kindness  which  the  gods  had  for  Timoleon  was  thus  as  dis- 
tinctly recognized  in  his  disasters  as  in  his  successes. 

What  most  annoyed  the  Syracusans  was  their  being  insult- 
ed and  mocked  by  the  tyrants  ; as,  for  example,  by  Mamercus, 
who  valued  himself  much  upon  his  gift  for  writing  poems  and 
tragedies,  and  took  occasion,  when  coming  to  present  the  gods 
with  the  bucklers  of  the  hired  soldiers  whom  he  had  killed,  to 
make  a boast  of  his  victory  in  an  insulting  elegiac  inscription  : 

These  shields  with  purple,  gold,  and  ivory  wrought, 

Were  won  by  us  that  but  with  poor  ones  fought. 

After  this,  while  Timoleon  marched  to  Calauria,  Hicetes 
made  an  inroad  into  the  borders  of  Syracuse,  where  he  met 
with  considerable  booty,  and  having  done  much  mischief  and 
havoc,  returned  back  by  Calauria  itself,  in  contempt  of  Timo- 
leon, and  the  slender  force  he  had  then  with  him.  He,  suffer- 
ing Hicetes  to  pass  forward,  pursued  him  with  his  horsemen 
and  light  infantry,  which  Hicetes  perceiving,  crossed  the  river 
Damyrias,  and  then  stood  in  a posture  to  receive  him ; the 
difficulty  of  the  passage,  and  the  height  and  steepness  of  the 
bank  on  each  side,  giving  advantage  enough  to  make  him 
confident.  A strange  contention  and  dispute,  meantime, 
among  the  officers  of  Timoleon,  a little  retarded  the  conflict ; 
no  one  of  them  was  willing  to  let  another  pass  over  before 
him  to  engage  the  enemy  ; each  man  claiming  it  as  a right,  to 
venture  first  and  begin  the  onset ; so  that  their  fording  was 
likely  to  be  tumultuous  and  without  order,  a mere  general 
struggle  which  should  be  the  foremost.  Timoleon,  therefora^ 
desiring  to  decide  the  quarrel  by  lot,  took  a ring  from  each  of 
the  pretenders,  which  he  cast  into  his  own  cloak  and,  after  he 
had  shaken  all  together,  the  first  he  drew  out  had,  by  good 
fortune,  the  figure  of  a trophy  engraved  as  a seal  upon  it ; at 
the  sight  of  which  the  young  captains  all  shouted  for  joy,  and, 
without  waiting  any  longer  to  see  how  chance  would  determine 
it  for  the  rest,  took  every  man  his  way  through  the  river  with 
all  the  speed  they  could  make,  and  fell  to  blows  with  the 
enemies,  who  were  not  able  to  bear  up  against  the  violence  of 
their  attack,  but  fled  in  haste  and  left  their  arms  behind  them 
all  alike,  and  a thousand  dead  upon  the  place. 

Not  long  after,  Timoleon,  marching  up  to  the  city  of  th# 


404 


TIMOLEON. 


I.eontines,  took  Hicetes  alive,  and  his  son  Eupolemus,  and 
Euthymus,  the  commander  of  his  horse,  who  were  bound  and 
brought  to  him  by  their  own  soldiers.  Hicetes  and  the  stripling 
his  son  were  then  executed  as  tyrants  and  traitors ; and  Eu- 
thymus, though  a brave  man,  and  one  of  singular  courage,  could 
obtain  no  mercy,  because  he  was  charged  with  contemptuous 
language  in  disparagement  of  the  Corinthians  when  they  first 
sent  their  forces  into  Sicily  ; it  is  said  that  he  told  the  Leon- 
tini  in  a speech,  that  the  news  did  not  sound  terrible,  nor  was 
any  great  danger  to  be  feared  because  of 

Corinthian  woman  coming  out  of  doors. 

So  true  it  is  that  men  are  usually  more  stung  and  galled  by 
reproachful  words  than  hostile  actions  ; and  they  bear  an  affront 
with  less  patience  than  an  injury  : to  do  harm  and  mischief  by 
deeds  is  counted  pardonable  from  enemies,  as  nothing  less  can 
be  expected  in  a state  of  war ; whereas  virulent  and  contume- 
lious words  appear  to  be  the  expression  of  needless  hatred, 
and  to  proceed  from  an  excess  of  rancor. 

When  Timoleon  came  back  to  Syracuse,  the  citizens 
brought  the  wives  and  daughters  of  Hicetes  and  his  son  to  a 
public  trial,  and  condemned  and  put  them  to  death.  This 
seems  to  be  the  least  pleasing  action  of  Timoleon’s  life  ; since 
if  he  had  interposed,  the  unhappy  women  would  have  been 
spared.  He  would  appear  to  have  disregarded  the  thing,  and 
to  have  given  them  up  to  the  citizens,  who  were  eager  to  take 
vengeance  for  the  wrongs  done  to  Dion,  who  expelled  Diony 
sius  ; since  it  was  this  very  Hicetes,  who  took  Arete  the  wife 
and  Aristomache  the  sister  of  Dion,  with  a son  that  had  not 
yet  passed  his  childhood,  and  threw  them  all  together  into  the 
sea  alive,  as  related  in  the  life  of  Dion. 

After  this,  he  moved  towards  Catana  against  Mamercus, 
who  gave  him  battle  near  the  river  Abolus,  and  was  overthrown 
and  put  to  flight,  losing  above  two  thousand  men,  a considerable 
part  of  whom  were  the  Phoenician  troops  sent  byGisco  to  h*s 
assistance.  After  this  defeat,  the  Carthaginians  sued  for 
peace;  which  was  granted  on  the  conditions  that  they  should 
confine  themselves  to  the  country  within  the  river  Lycus,  that 
those  of  the  inhabitants  who  wished  to  remove  to  the  Syracusan 
territories  should  be  allowed  to  depart  with  their  whole  fami- 
lies and  fortunes,  and,  lastly,  that  Carthage  should  renounce 
all  engagements  to  the  tyrants.  Mamercus,  now  forsaken  and 
despairing  of  success,  took  ship  for  Italy  with  the  design  of 
bringing  in  the  Lucanians  against  Timoleon  and  the  people  of 


TIMOLEON. 


405 


Syracuse  ; but  the  men  in  his  galleys  turning  back  and  land' 
ingagai'"  and  delivering  up  Catana  to  Timoleon,  thus  obliged 
him  to  fly  for  his  own  safety  to  Messena,  where  Hippo  was 
tyrant.  Timoleon,  however,  coming  up  against  them,  and  be- 
sieging the  city  both  by  sea  and  land.  Hippo,  fearful  of  the 
event,  endeavored  to  slip  away  in  a vessel ; which  the  people 
of  Messena  surprised  as  it  was  putting  off,  and  seizing  on  his 
person,  and  bringing  all  their  children  from  school  into  the 
theatre,  to  witness  the  glorious  spectacle  of  a tyrant  punished, 
they  first  publicly  scourged  and  then  put  hirp  to  death.  Mamer* 
cus  made  surrender  of  himself  to  Timoleon,  with  the  proviso, 
that  he  should  be  tried  at  Syracuse,  and  Timoleon  should  take 
no  part  in  his  accusation.  Thither  he  was  brought  accord- 
ingly, and  presenting  himself  to  plead  before  the  people,  he 
essayed  to  pronounce  an  oration  he  had  long  before  composed 
in  his  own  defence  ; but  finding  himself  interrupted  by  noise 
and  clamors,  and  observing  from  their  aspect  and  demeanor 
that  the  assembly  was  inexorable,  he  threw  off  his  upper  gar- 
ment, and  running  across  the  theatre  as  hard  as  he  could, 
dashed  his  head  against  one  o:"  the  stores  under  the  seats  with 
intention  to  have  killed  himself ; but  he  had  not  the  fortune 
to  perish,  as  he  designed,  but  was  taken  up  alive,  and  suffered 
the  death  of  ^ robber.  0 

Thus  did  Timoleon  cut  the  nerves  of  tyranny,  and  put  a 
period  to  the  wars  ; and,  whereas,  at  his  first  entering  upon 
Sicily,  the  island  was  as  it  were  become  wild  again,  and  was 
hateful  to  the  very  natives  on  account  of  the  evils  and  miseries 
they  suffered  there,  he  so  civilized  and  restored  it,  and  ren- 
dered it  so  desirable  to  all  men,  that  even  strangers  now  came 
by  sea  to  inhabit  those  towns  and  places  which  their  own  cit- 
izens had  formerly  forsaken  and  left  desolate.  Agrigentum 
and  Gela,  two  famous  cities  that  had  been  ruined  and  laid 
waste  bv  the  Carthaginians  after  the  Attic  war,  were  then 
peopled  again,  the  one  by  Megellus  and  Pheristus  from  Elea^ 
the  other  by  Gorgus,  from  the  island  of  Ceos,  partly  with  new 
settlers,  partly  with  the  old  inhabitants  whom  they  collected 
again  from  various  parts ; to  all  of  whom  Timoleon  not  only 
atforded  a secure  and  peaceful  abode  after  so  obstinate  a war, 
but  was  further  so  zealous  in  assisting  and  providing  for  them 
that  he  was  honored  among  them  as  their  founder.  Similar 
feelings  also  possessed  to  such  a degree  all  the  rest  of  the 
Sicilians,  that  there  was  no  proposal  for  peace,  nor  reformation 
of  laws,  nor  assignation  of  land,  nor  reconstitution  of  govern- 
ment, which  they  could  think  well  of,  unless  he  lent  his  aid  as 


4o6 


TIMOLEON. 


a chief  architect,  to  finish  and  adorn  the  work,  and  superadd 
some  touches  from  his  own  hand,  which  mi^ht  render  it  pleas- 
ing both  to  God  and  man* 

Although  Greece  had  in  his  time  produced  several  persons 
of  extraordinary  worth,  and  much  renowned  for  their  achieve- 
ments, such  as  Timotheus  and  Agesilaus  and  Pelopidas  and 
(Timoleon’s  chief  model)  Epaminondas,  yet  the  lustre  of  their 
best  actions  was  obscured  by  a degree  of  violence  and  labor, 
insomuch  that  some  of  them  were  matter  of  blame  and  of  re- 
pentance ; wherea^  there  is  not  any  one  act  of  Timoleon's, 
setting  aside  the  necessity  he  was  placed  under  in  reference 
to  his  brother,  to  which,  as  Timaeus  observes,  we  may  not  fitly 
apply  that  exclamation  of  Sophocles  : — 

O gods  1 what  Venus,  or  what  grace  divine, 

Did  here  with  human  workmanship  combiii2  ? 

For  as  the  poetry  of  Antimachus,  and  the  painting  of  Diony 
sius,  the  artists  of  Colophon,  though  full  of  force  and  vigor, 
yet  appeared  to  be  strained  and  elaborate  in  comparison  with 
the  pictures  of  Nicomachus  and  the  verses  of  Homer,  which, 
besides  their  general  strength  and  beauty,  have  the  peculiar 
charm  of  seeming  to  have  been  executed  with  perfect  ease  and 
readiness  ; so  the  expeditions  and  a^ts  of  Epaminondas  or 
Agesilaus,  that  were  full  of  toil  and  effort,  when  compared  with 
the  easy  and  natural  as  well  as  noble  and  glorious  achieve- 
ments of  Timoleon,  compel  our  fair  and  unbiassed  judgment 
to  pronounce  the  latter  not  indeed  the  effect  of  fortune,  but 
the  success  of  fortunate  merit.  Though  he  himself  indeed  as- 
cribed that  success  to  the  sole  favor  of  fortune  ; and  both  in 
the  letters  which  he  wrote  to  his  friends  at  Corinth,  and  in  the 
speeches  he  made  to  the  people  of  Syracuse,  he  would  say,  that 
he  was  thankful  unto  God,  who,  designing  to  save  Sicily,  was 
pleased  to  honor  him  with  the  name  and  title  of  the  deliver- 
ance he  vouchsafed  it.  And  having  built  a chapel  in  his  house, 
he  there  sacrificed  to  Good  Hap,  as  a deity  that  had  favored 
him,  and  devoted  the  house  itself  to  the  Sacred  Genius  ; it  be- 
ing a house  which  the  Syracusans-  had  selected  for  him,  as  a 
special  reward  and  monument  of  his  brave  exploits,  granting 
him  together  with  it  the  most  agreeable  and  beautiful  piece  of 
land  in  the  whole  country,  where  he  kept  his  residence  for  the 
most  part,  and  enjoyed  a private  life  with  his  wife  and  children, 
who  came  to  him  from  Corinth.  For  he  returned  thither  no 
more,  unwilling  to  be  concerned  in  the  broils  and  tumults  of 
Greece,  or  to  expose  himself  to  public  en\7  (the  fatal  mischief 


TIMOLEON. 


407 


which  great  commanders  continually  run  into,  from  the  insatia- 
ble appetite  for  honors  and  authority)  ; but  wisely  chose  to 
spend  the  remainder  of  his  days  in  Sicily,  and  there  partake 
of  the  blessings  he  himself  had  procured,  the  greatest  of  which 
was  to  behold  so  many  cities  flourish,  and  so  many  thousands 
of  people  live  happy  through  his  means. 

As,  however,  not  only,  as  Simonides  says,  ‘‘  On  every  laik 
must  grow  a crest,’^  but  also  in  every  democracy  there  must 
spring  up  a false  accuser,  so  was  it  at  Syracuse  : two  of  their 
popular  spokesmen,  Laphystius  and  Demaenetus  by  name,  fell 
to  slander  Timoleon.  The  former  of  whom  requiring  him  to 
put  in  sureties  that  he  would  answer  to  an  indictment  that 
would  be  brought  against  him,  Timoleon  would  not  suffer  the 
citizens,  who  were  incensed  at  this  demand,  to  oppose  it  or 
hinder  the  proceeding,  since  he  of  his  own  accord  had  been, 
he  said,  at  all  that  trouble,  and  run  so  many  dangerous  risks 
for  this  very  end  and  purpose,  that  every  one  who  wished  to 
try  matters  by  law  should  freely  have  recourse  to  it.  And 
when  Demaenetus,  in  a full  audience  of  the  people,  laid  several 
things  to  his  charge  which  had  been  done  while  he  was  gen- 
eral, he  made  no  other  reply  to  him,  but  only  said  he  was  much 
indebted  to  the  gods  for  granting  the  request  he  had  so  often 
made  them,  namely,  that  he  might  live  to  see  the  Syracusans 
enjoy  that  liberty  of  speech  which  they  now  seemed  to  be 
masters  of. 

Timoleon,  therefore,  having  by  confession  of  all  done  the 
greatest  and  the  noblest  things  of  any  Greek  of  his  age,  and 
alone  distinguished  himself  in  those  actions  to  which  their 
orators  and  philosophers,  in  their  harangues  and  panegyrics 
at  their  solemn  national  assemblies,  used  to  exhort  and  in- 
cite the  Greeks,  and  being  withdrawn  beforehand  by  happy 
fortune,  unspotted  and  without  blood,  from  the  calamities  of 
civil  war,  in  which  ancient  Greece  was  soon  after  involved ; 
having  also  given  full  proof,  as  of  his  sage  conduct  and  manly 
courage  to  the  barbarians  and  tyrants,  so  of  his  justice  and 
gentleness  to  the  Greeks,  and  his  friends  in  general ; having 
raised,  too,  the  greater  part  of  those  trophies  he  won  in  bat- 
tle, without  any  tears  shed  or  any  mourning  worn  by  the 
citizens  either  of  Syracuse  or  Corinth,  and  within  less  than 
eight  years’  space  delivered  Sicily  from  its  inveterate  griev- 
ances and  intestine  distempers,  and  given  it  up  free  to  the 
native  inhabitants,  began,  as  he  was  now  growing  old,  to 
find  his  eyes  fail,  and  awhile  after  became  perfectly  blind. 
Not  that  he  had  done  any  thing  himself  which  might  occasion 


4o8 


TIMOLEON. 


this  defect,  or  was  deprived  of  his  sight  by  any  outrage  ol 
fortune  ; it  seems  rather  to  have  been  some  inbred  and  hered 
itary  weakness  that  was  founded  in  natural  causes,  which  by 
length  of  time  came  to  discover  itself.  For  it  is  said,  that 
several  of  his  kindred  and  family  were  subject  to  the  like 
gradual  decay,  and  lost  all  use  of  their  eyes,  as  he  did,  in 
their  declining  years.  Athanis  the  historian  tells  us,  that  even 
during  the  war  against  Hippo  and  Mamercus,  while  he  was  in 
his  camp  at  Mylae,  there  appeared  a white  speck  within  his 
eye,  from  whence  all  could  foresee  the  deprivation  that  was 
coming  on  him ; this,  however,  did  not  hinder  him  then  from 
continuing  the  siege,  and  prosecuting  the  war,  till  he  got  both 
the  tyrants  into  his  power  ; but  upon  his  coming  back  to  Syra- 
cuse, he  presently  resigned  the  authority  of  sole  commander, 
and  besought  the  citzens  to  excuse  him  from  any  further  service, 
since  things  were  already  brought  to  so  fair  an  issue.  Nor  is  it  so 
much  to  be  wondered,  that  he  himself  should  bear  the  misfor- 
tune without  any  marks  of  trouble  ; but  the  respect  and  grati- 
tude which  the  Syracusans  showed  him  when  he  was  entirely 
blind, may  justly  deserve  our  admiration.  They  used  to  go  them- 
selves to  visit  him  in  troops,  and  brought  all  the  strangers 
that  travelled  through  their  country  to  his  house  and  manor, 
that  they  also  might  have  the  pleasure  to  see  their  noble 
benefactor;  making  it  the  great  matter  of  their  joy  and  exul- 
tation, that  when,  after  so  many  brave  and  happy  exploits,  he 
might  have  returned  with  triumph  into  Greece,  he  should  dis- 
regard all  the  glorious  preparations  that  were  there  made  to 
receive  him,  and  choose  rather  to  stay  here  and  end  his  days 
among  them.  Of  the  various,  things  decreed  and  done  in 
honor  of  Timoleon,  I consider  one  most  signal  testimony  to 
have  been  the  vote  which  they  passed,  that,  whenever  they 
should  be  at  war  with  any  foreign  nation,  they  should  make 
use  of  none  but  a Corinthian  general.  The  method,  also,  of 
their  proceeding  in  council,  was  a noble  demonstration  of  the 
same  deference  for  his  person.  For,  determining  matters  of 
less  consequence  themselves,  they  always  called  him  to  ad- 
vise in  the  more  difficult  cases,  and  such  as  were  of  greater 
moment.  He  was,  on  these  occasions,  carried  through  the 
market-place  in  a litter,  and  brought  in,  sitting,  into  the 
.'heatre,  where  the  people  with  one  voice  saluted  him  by  his 
name  ; and  then,  after  returning  the  courtesy,  and  pausing 
for  a time,  till  the  noise  of  their  gratulations  and  blessings 
began  to  cease,  he  heard  the  business  in  debate,  and  delivered 
his  opinion.  This  being  confirmed  by  a general  suffrage,  his 


TIMOLEON. 


4.09 


servants  went  back  with  the  litter  through  the  midst  of  the 
assembly,  the  people  waiting  on  him  out  with  acclamations 
and  applauses,  and  then  returning  to  consider  other  public 
matters,  which  they  could  despatch  in  his  absence.  Being 
thus  cherished  in  his  old  age,  with  all  the  respect  and  tender- 
ness due  to  a common  father,  he  was  seized  with  a very  slight 
indispostion,  which,  however,  was  sufficient,  with  the  aid  of 
time,  to  put  a period  to  his  life.  There  was  an  allotment 
then  of  certain  days  given,  within  the  space  of  which  the 
Syracusans  were  to  provide  whatever  should  be  necessary 
for  his  burial,  and  all  the  neighboring  country  people  and 
strangers  were  to  make  their  appearance  in  a body  ; so  that 
the  funeral  pomp  was  set  out  with  great  splendor  and  magnifi- 
cence in  all  other  respects,  and  the  bier,  decked  with  orna- 
ments and  trophies,  was  born  by  a select  body  of  young  men 
over  that  ground  where  the  palace  and  castle  of  Dionysius 
stood  before  they  were  demolished  by  Timoleon.  There  at- 
tended on  the  solemnity  several  thousands  of  men  and  women, 
all  crowned  with  flowers,  and  arrayed  in  fresh  and  clean  at- 
tire, which  made  it  look  like  the  procession  of  a public  festi- 
val ; while  the  language  of  all,  and  their  tears  mingling  with 
their  praise  and  benediction  of  the  dead  Timoleon,  mani- 
festly showed  that  it  was  not  any  superficial  honor,  or  com- 
manded homage,  which  they  paid  him,  but  the  testimony  of  a 
just  sorrow  for  his  death,  and  the  expression  of  true  affection. 
The  bier  at  length  being  placed  upon  the  pile  of  wood  that 
was  kindled  to  consume  his  corpse,  Demetrius,  one  of  their 
loudest  criers,  proceeded  to  read  a proclamation  to  the  fol- 
lowing purpose  : ‘‘  The  people  of  Syracuse  has  made  a special 
decree  to  inter  Timoleon,  tlie  son  of  Timodemus,  the  Corinth- 
ian, at  the  common  expense  of  two  hundred  minas,  and  to 
honor  his  memory  forever,  by  the  establishment  of  annual 
prizes  to  be  competed  for  in  music,  and  horse-races,  and  all 
sorts  of  bodily  exercise  ; and  this,  because  he  suppressed  the 
tyrants,  overthrew  the  barbarians,  replenished  the  principal 
cities,  that  were  desolate,  with  new  inhabitants,  and  then 
lestored  the  Sicilian  Greeks  to  the  privilege  of  living  by  their 
own  laws.’^  Besides  this,  they  made  a tomb  for  him  in  the 
market-place,  which  they  afterwards  built  round  with  colon- 
nades, and  attached  to  it  places  of  exercise  for  the  young 
men,  and  gave  it  the  name  of  the  Timoleonteum.  And  keep- 
ing to  that  form  and  order  of  civil  policy  and  observing  those 
laws  and  constitutions  which  he  left  them,  they,  lived  them* 
selves  a long  time  in  great  prosperity. 


410 


iEMILlUS  PAULUS. 


^MILIUS  PAULUS. 

Almost  all  historians  agree  that  the  ^rnilii  were  one  of 
the  ancient  and  patrician  houses  in  Rome  ; and  those  authors 
who  affirm  that  king  Numa  was  pupil  to  Pythagoras  tell  us 
that  the  first  who  gave  name  to  his  posterity  was  Mamercus, 
the  son  of  Pythagoras,  who,  for  his  grace  and  address  in 
speaking,  was  called  ^milius.  Most  of  this  race  that  have 
risen  through  their  merit  to  reputation,  also  enjoyed  good 
fortune ; and  even  the  misfortune  of  Lucius  Paulus  at  the 
battle  of  Cannae,  gave  testimony  to  his  wisdom  and  valor. 
For,  not  being  able  to  persuade  his  colleague  not  to  hazard 
the  battle,  he,  though  against  his  judgment,  joined  with  him  in 
the  contest,  but  was  no  companion  in  his  flight : on  the  con- 
trary, when  he  that  was  so  resolute  to  engage  deserted  him  in 
the  midst  of  danger,  he  kept  the  field,  and  died  fighting.  Tnis 
^milius  had  a daughter  named  ^Emilia,  who  was  married  to 
Scipio  the  Great,  and  a son  Paulus,  who  is  the  subject  of  my 
present  history. 

In  his  early  manhood,  which  fell  at  a time  when  Rome 
was  flourishing  with  illustrious  characters,  he  was  distinguish- 
ed for  not  attaching  himself  to  the  studies  usual  with  the 
young  men  of  mark  of  that  age,  nor  treading  the  same  paths 
to  fame.  For  he  did  not  practise  oratory  with  a view  to 
pleading  causes,  nor  would  he  stoop  to  salute,  embrace,  and 
entertain  the  vulgar,  which  were  the  usual  insinuating  arts  by 
which  many  grew  popular.  Not  that  he  was  incapable  of 
either,  but  he  chose  to  purchase  a much  more  lasting  glory 
b}  his  valor,  justice,  and  integrity,  and  in  these  virtues  he 
soon  outstripped  all  his  equals. 

The  first  honorable  office  he  aspired  to  was  that  of  aedile, 
which  he  carried  against  twelve  competitors  of  such  merit, 
that  all  of  them  in  process  of  time  were  consuls.  Being 
afterwards  chosen  into  the  number  of  priests  called  augurs, 
appointed  amongst  the  Romans  to  observe  and  register  di- 
vinations made  by  the  flight  of  birds  or  prodigies  in  the  air^ 
he  so  carefully  studied  the  ancient  customs  of  his  country^ 
and  so  thoroughly  understood  the  religion  of  his  ancestors, 
that  this  office,  which  was  before  only  esteemed  a title  of 
honor  and  merely  upon  that  account  sought  after,  by  his 


iEMILlUS  PAULUS. 


411 


means  rose  to  the  rank  of  one  of  the  highest  arts,  and  gave  a 
confirmation  to  the  correctness  of  the  definition  which  some 
philosophers  have  given  of  religion,  that  it  is  the  science  of 
worshipping  the  gods.  When  he  performed  any  part  of  his 
duty,  he  did  it  with  great  skill  and  utmost  care,  making  it, 
when  he  was  engaged  in  it,  his  only  business,  not  omitting 
any  one  ceremony,  or  adding  the  least  circumstance,  but  al- 
ways insisting,  with  his  companions  of  the  same  order,  even 
on  points  that  might  seem  inconsiderable,  and  urging  upon 
them,  that  though  they  might  think  the  Deity  was  easily 
pacified,  and  ready  to  forgive  faults  of  inadvertency,  yet  any 
such  laxity  was  a very  dangerous  thing  for  a commonwealth 
to  allow;  because  no  man  ever  began  the  disturbance  of  his 
country’s  peace  by  a notorious  breach  of  its  laws  ; and  those 
who  are  careless  in  trifles,  give  a precedent  for  remissness  in 
important  duties.  Nor  was  he  less  severe  in  requiring 
and  observing  the  ancient  Roman  discipline  in  military  af- 
fairs ; not  endeavoring,  when  he  had  the  command,  to  ingrati- 
ate himself  with  his  soldiers  by  popular  flattery,  though  this 
custom  prevailed  at  that  time  amongst  many,  who,  by  favor 
and  gentleness  to  those  that  were  under  them  in  their  first 
employment,  sought  to  be  promoted  to  a second  ; but,  by 
instructing  them  in  the  laws  of  military  discipline  with  the 
same  care  and  exactness  a priest  would  use  in  teaching  cere- 
monies and  dreadful  mysteries,  and  by  severity  to  such  as 
transgressed  and  contemned  those  laws,  he  maintained  his 
country  in  its  former  greatness,  esteeming  victory  over  ene- 
mies itself  but  as  an  accessory  to  the  proper  training  and  dis- 
ciplining of  the  citizens. 

Whilst  the  Romans  were  engaged  in  war  with  Antiochus 
the  Great,  against  whom  their  most  experienced  commanders 
were  employed,  there  arose  another  war  in  the  west,  and  they 
were  all  up  in  arms  in  Spain.  Thither  they  sent  ^milius,  in 
the  quality  of  praetor,  not  with  six  axes,  which  number  other 
praetors  were  accustomed  to  have  carried  before  them,  but 
witli  twelve  ; so  that  in  his  praetorship  he  was  honored  with 
the  dignity  of  a consul.  He  twice  overcame  the  bar- 
barians in  battle,  thirty  thousand  of  whom  were  slain  : suc- 
cesses chiefly  to  be  ascribed  to  the  wisdom  and  conduct  of  the 
commander,  who  by  his  great  skill  in  choosing  the  advantage 
of  the  ground,  and  making  the  onset  at  the  passage  of  a 
river,  gave  his  soldiers  an  easy  victory.  Having  made  him- 
self master  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  cities,  whose  inhabitants 
oluntarily  yielded,  and  bound  themselves  by  oath  to  fidelity, 


412 


^MILIUS  PAULUS. 


he  left  the  province  in  peace,  and  returned  to  Rome,  not  en 
riching  himself  a drachma  by  the  war.  And,  indeed,  in 
general,  he  was  but  remiss  in  making  money;  though  he 
always  lived  freely  and  generously  on  what  he  had,  which  was 
so  far  from  being  excessive,  that  after  his  death  there  was 
but  barely  enough  left  to  answer  his  wife’s  dowry. 

His  first  wife  was  Papiria,  the  daughter  of  Maso,  who  had 
formerly  been  consul.  With  her  he  lived  a considerable  time 
in  wedlock,  and  then  divorced  her,  though  she  had  made  him 
the  father  of  noble  children,  being  mother  of  the  renowned 
Scipio,  and  Fabius  Maximus.  The  reason  of  this  separation 
has  not  come  to  our  knowledge  ; but  there  seems  to  be  a truth 
conveyed  in  the  account  of  another  Roman’s  being  divorced 
from  his  wife,  which  may  be  applicable  here.  This  person 
being  highly  blamed  by  his  friends,  who  demanded.  Was  she 
not  chaste  ? was  she  not  fair  ? was  she  not  fruitful  ? holding 
out  his  shoe,  asked  them.  Whether  it  was  not  new  ? and  well 
made?  Yet,  added  he,  none  of  you  can  tell  where  it  pinches 
me.  Certain  it  is,  that  great  and  open  faults  have  often  led 
to  no  separation ; while  mere  petty  repeated  annoyances, 
arising  from  unpleasantness  or  incongruity  of  character,  have 
been  the  occasion  of  such  estrangement  as  to  make  it  impos- 
sible for  man  and  wife  to  live  together  with  any  content. 

^milius,  having  thus  put  away  Papiria,  married  a second 
wife,  by  whom  he  had  two  sons,  whom  he  brought  up  in  his 
own  house,  transferring  the  two  former  into  the  greatest  and 
the  most  noble  families  of  Rome.  The  elder  was  adopted 
into  the  house  of  Fabius  Maximus,  who  was  five  times  consul ; 
the  younger  by  the  son  of  Scipio  Africanus,  his  cousin-german, 
and  was  by  him  named  Scipio. 

Of  the  daughters  of  ^milius,  one  was  married  to  the  son  of 
Cato,  the  other  to  ^Flius  Tubero,  a most  worthy  man,  and  the 
one  Roman  who  best  succeeded  in  combining  liberal  habits 
with  poverty.  For  there  were  sixteen  near  relations,  all  of 
them  of  the  family  of  the  ^^lii,  possessed  of  but  one  farm, 
which  sufficed  them  all,  whilst  one  small  house,  or  rather 
cottage,  contained  them,  their  numerous  offspring,  and  their 
wives  ; amongst  whom  was  the  daughter  of  our  ^milius,  who, 
although  her  father  had  been  twice  consul,  and  had  twice 
triumphed,  was  not  ashamed  of  her  husband’s  poverty,  but 
proud  of  his  virtue  that  kept  him  poor.  Far  otherwise  it  is 
with  the  brothers  and  relations  of  this  age,  who,  unless  whole 
tracts  of  land,  or  at  least  walls  and  rivers,  part  their  inherit- 
ances, and  keep  them  at  a distance,  never  cease  from  mutual 


i^^MILIUS  PAULUS. 


413 


quarrels,  History  suggests  a variety  of  good  counsel  of  this 
sort,  by  the  way,  to  those  who  desire  to  learn  and  improve. 

To  proceed : ^milius,  being  chosen  consul,  waged  wai 
with  the  Ligurians,  or  Ligustines,  a people  near  the  Alps. 
They  were  a bold  and  warlike  nation,  and  their  neighborhood 
to  the  Romans  had  begun  to  give  them  skill  in  the  arts  of 
war.  They  occupy  the  further  parts  of  Italy  ending  under 
the  Alps,  and  those  parts  of  the  Alps  themselves  which  are 
washed  by  the  Tuscan  sea  and  face  toward  Africa,  mingled 
there  with  Gauls  and  Iberians  of  the  coast.  Besides,  at  that 
time  they  had  turned  their  thoughts  to  the  seas,  and  sailing 
as  far  as  the  Pillars  of  Hercules  in  light  vessels  fitted  for  that 
purpose,  robbed  and  destroyed  all  that  traffficked  in  those 
parts.  They,  with  an  army  of  forty  thousand,  waited  the 
coming  of  ^Emilius,  who  brought  with  him  not  above  eight 
thousand,  so  that  the  enemy  was  five  to  one  when  they 
engaged;  yet  he  vanquished  and  put  them  to  flight,  forcing 
them  to  retire  into  their  walled  towns,  and  in  this  condition 
offered  them  fair  conditions  of  accomodation  ; it  being  the 
policy  of  the  Romans  not.  utterly  to  destroy  the  Ligurians, 
because  they  were  a sort  of  guard  and  bulwark  against  the 
frequent  attempts  of  the  Gauls  to  overrun  Italy.  Trusting 
wholly  therefore  to  ^milius,  they  delivered  up  their  towns 
and  shipping  into  his  hands.  He,  at  the  utmost,  razed  only 
the  fortifications,  and  delivered  their  towns  to  them  again, 
but  took  away  all  their  shipping  with  him,  leaving  them  no 
vessels  bigger  than  those  of  three  oars,  and  set  at  liberty  great 
numbers  of  prisoners  they  had  taken  both  by  sea  and  land, 
strangers  as  well  as  Romans.  These  were  the  acts  most  wor- 
thy of  remark  in  his  first  consulship. 

Afterwards  he  frequently  intimated  his  desire  of  being  a 
second  time  consul,  and  was  once  candidate  ; but  meeting 
with  a repulse  and  being  passed  by,  he  gave  up  all  thought  of 
it,  and  devoted  himself  to  his  duties  as  augur,  and  to  the 
education  of  his  children,  whom  he  not  only  brought  up,  as 
he  himself  had  been,  in  the  Roman  and  ancient  discipline,  but 
also  with  unusual  zeal  in  that  of  Greece.  To  this  purpose  he 
not  only  procured  masters  to  teach  them  grammar,  logic,  and 
-hetoric,  but  had  for  them  also  preceptors  in  modelling  and 
drawing,  managers  of  horses  and  dogs,  and  instructors  in  field 
sports,  all  from  Greece.  And,  if  he  was  not  hiiidered  by 
public  affairs,  he  himself  would  be  with  them  at  their  studies, 
and  see  them  perform  their  exercises,  being  the  most  affec 
tionate  father  in  Rome. 


414 


yEMlLIUS  PAULUS. 


This  was  the  time,  in  public  matters,  when  the  Romans 
were  engaged  in  war  with  Perseus,  king  of  the  Macedo- 
nians, and  great  complaints  were  made  of  their  commanders, 
who,  either  through  their  want  of  skill  or  courage,  were  con- 
ducting matters  so  shamefully,  that  they  did  less  hurt  to  the 
enemy  than  they  received  from  him.  They  that  not  long 
before  had  forced  Antiochus  the  Great  to  quit  the  rest  of 
Asia,  to  retire  beyond  Mount  Taurus,  and  confine  himself  to 
S3Tia,  glad  to  buy  his  peace  with  fifteen  thousand  talents,* 
they  that  not  long  since  had  vanquished  king  Philip  in  Thessaly, 
and  freed  the  Greeks  from  the  Macedonian  yoke  ; nay,  had 
overcome  Hannibal  himself,  who  far  surpassed  all  kings  in 
daring  and  po\ver, — thought  it  scorn  that  Perseus  should 
think  himself  an  enemy  fit  to  match  the  Romans,  and  to  be 
able  to  wage  war  with  them  so  long  on  equal  terms,  with  the 
remainder  only  of  his  father's  routed  forces ; not  being  aware 
that  Philip  after  his  defeat  had  greatly  improved  both  the 
strength  and  discipline  of  the  Macedonian  army.  To  m>ike 
which  appear,  I shall  briefly  recount  the  story  from  the  begin- 
ning. 

Antigonus,  the  most  powerful  amongst  the  captains  and 
successors  of  Alexander,  having  obtained  for  himself  and  his 
posterity  the  title  of  king,  had  a son  named  Demetrius,  fathei 
to  Antigonus,  called  Gonatas,  and  he  had  a son  Demetrius, 
who,  reigning  some  short  time,  died  and  left  a young  son 
called  Philip.  The  chief  men  of  Macedon,  fearing  great  con- 
fusion might  arise  in  his  minority,  called  in  Antigonus,  cousin- 
german  to  the  late  king,  and  married  him  to  the  widow,  the 
mother  of  Philip.  At  first  they  only  styled  him  regent  and 
general,  but  when  they  found  by  experience  that  he  governed 
the  kingdom  with  moderation  and  to  general  advantage,  gave 
him  the  title  of  king.  This  was  he  that  was  surnamed  Doson, 
as  if  he  was  a great  promiser,  and  a bad  performer.  To  him 
succeeded  Philip,  who  in  his  youth  gave  great  hopes  of  equal- 
ling the  best  of  kings,  and  that  he  one  day  would  restore 
Macedon  to  its  former  state  and  dignity,  and  prove  himself  the 
one  man  able  to  check  the  power  of  the  Romans,  now  rising  and 
extending  over  the  whole  world.  But,  being  vanquished  in  a 
pitched  battle  by  Titus  Flamininus  near  Scotussa,  his  reso- 
lution failed,  and  he  yielded  himself  and  all  that  he  had  to 
the  mercy  of  the  Romans,  well  contented  that  he  could  escape 
with  paying  a small  tribute.  Yet  afterwards,  recollecting 
himself,  he  bore  it  with  great  impatience,  and  thought  he 
lived  rather  like  a slave  that  was  pleased  with  ease,  than  a 


vEMILIUS  PAULUS. 


4^5 

man  of  sense  and  courage,  whilst  he  held  his  kingdom  at  the 
pleasure  of  his  conquerors  ; which  made  hi;n  turn  his  whole 
mind  to  war,  and  prepare  himself  with  as  much  cunning  and 
privacy  as  possible.  To  this  end,  he  left  his  cities  on  the 
high  roads  and  sea-coast  ungarrisoned,  and  almost  desolate, 
that  they  might  seem  inconsiderable  ; in  the  meantime,  col- 
lecting large  forces  up  the  country,  and  furnishing  his  inland 
posts,  strongholds,  and  towns,  with  arms,  money,  and  men  fit 
for  service,  he  thus  provided  himself  for  war,  and  yet  kept  his 
preparations  close.  He  had  in  his  armory  arms  for  thirty 
thousand  men  ; in  granaries  in  places  of  strength,  eight  mil- 
lions of  bushels  of  corn,  and  as  much  ready  money  as  would 
defray  the  charge  of  maintaining  ten  thousand  mercenary 
soldiers  for  ten  years  in  defence  of  the  country.  But  before 
he  could  put  these  things  into  motion,  and  carry  his  designs 
into  effect,  he  died  for  grief  and  anguish  of  mind,  being  sensi- 
ble he  had  put  his  innocent  son  Demetrius  to  death,  upon  the 
calumnies  of  one  that  was  far  more  guilty.  Perseus,  his  son 
that  survived,  inherited  his  hatred  to  the  Romans  as  well  as 
his  kingdom,  but  was  incompetent  to  carry  out  his  designs, 
through  want  of  courage,  and  the  viciousness  of  a character 
in  which,  among  faults  and  diseases  of  various  sorts,  covetous- 
ness bore  the  chief  place.  There  is  a statement  also  of  his 
not  being  true  born  ; that  the  wife  of  king  Philip  took  him 
from  his  mother,  Gnathaenion  (a  woman  of  Argos,  that  earned 
her  living  as  a seamstress),  as  soon  as  he  was  born,  and 
passed  him  upon  her  husband  as  her  own.  And  this  might 
be  the  chief  cause  of  his  contriving  the  death  of  Demetrius ; 
as  he  might  well  fear,  that  so  long  as  there  was  a lawful  suc- 
cessor in  the  family,  there  was  no  security  that  his  spurious 
birth  might  not  be  revealed. 

Notwithstanding  all  this,  and  though  his  spirit  was  so 
mean,  and  temper  so  sordid,  yet  trusting  to  the  strength  of 
his  resources,  he  engaged  in  a war  with  the  Romans,  and  for 
a long  time  maintained  it ; repulsing  and  even  vanquishing 
some  generals  of  consular  dignity,  and  some  great  armies  and 
fieets.  He  routed  Publius  Licinius,  who  was  the  first  that 
^ invaded  Macedonia,  in  a cavalry  battle,  slew  twenty-five  hun- 
idred  practised  soldiers,  and  took  six  hundred  prisoners  ; and 
surprising  their  fleet  as  they  rode  at  anchor  before  Orens,  he 
took  twenty  ships  of  burden  with  all  their  lading,  sunk  the 
rest  that  were  freighted  with  corn,  and,  besides  this,  made 
himself  master  of  four  galleys  with  five  banks  of  oars.  He 
fought  a second  battle  with  Hostilius,  a consular  officer,  as  ho 


4i6 


iEMILIUS  PAULUS. 


was  making  his  way  into  the  country  at  Elimiie,  and  forced 
him  to  retreat ; and,  when  he  afterwards  by  stealth  de* 
signed  an  invasion  through  Thessaly,  challenged  him  to  fight, 
which  the  other  feared  to  accept.  Nay  more,  to  show  his 
contempt  to  the  Romans,  and  that  he  wanted  employment,  as 
a war  by  the  by,  he  made  an  expedition  against  the  Darda- 
nians,  in  which  he  slew  ten  thousand  of  those  barbarian  peo- 
ple, and  brought  a great  spoil  away.  He  privately,  moreover, 
solicited  the  Gauls  (also  called  Basternae),  a warlike  nation, 
and  famous  for  horsemen,  dwelling  near  the  Danube  ; and  in- 
cited the  Illyrians,  by  the  means  of  Genthius  their  king,  to 
join  with  him  in  the  war.  It  was  also  reported  that  the  bar- 
barians, allured  by  promise  of  rewards,  were  to  make  an 
irruption  into  Italy,  through  the  lower  Gaul  by  the  shore  of 
the  Adriatic  Sea. 

The  Romans,  being  advertised  of  these  things,  thought  it 
necessary  no  longer  to  choose  their  commanders  by  favor  or 
solicitation,  but  of  their  own  motion  to  select  a general  of 
wisdom  and  capacity  for  the  management  of  great  affairs. 
And  such  was  Paulus  ^milius,  advanced  in  years,  being 
nearly  threescore,  yet  vigorous  in  his  own  person,  and  rich  in 
valiant  sons  and  sons-in-law,  besides  a great  number  of  influ- 
ential relations  and  friends,  all  of  whom  joined  in  urging  him 
to  yield  to  the  desires  of  the  people,  who  called  him  to  the 
consulship.  He  at  first  manifested  some  shyness  of  the  people, 
and  withdrew  himself  from  their  importunity,  professing  re- 
luctance to  hold  office  ; but,  when  they  daily  came  to  his 
doors,  urging  him  to  come  forth  to  the  place  of  election,  and 
pressing  him  with  noise  and  clamor,  he  acceded  to  their  re- 
quest. When  he  appeared  amongst  the  candidates,  it  did  not 
look  as  if  it  were  to  sue  for  the  consulship,  but  to  bring  victory 
and  success,  that  he  came  down  into  the  Campus ; they  all 
received  him  there  with  such  hopes  and  such  gladness,  unani- 
mously choosing  him  a second  time  consul ; nor  would  they 
suffer  the  lots  to  be  cast,  as  was  usual,  to  determine  which 
province  should  fall  to  his  share,  but  immediately  decreed 
him  the  command  of  the  Macedonian  war.  It  is  told,  that 
when  he  had  been  proclaimed  general  against  Perseus,  and 
was  honorably  accompanied  home  by  great  numbers  of  people, 
he  found  his  daughter  Tertia,  a very  little  girl,  weeping,  and 
taking  her  to  him  asked  her  why  she  was  crying.  She,  catch- 
ing him  about  the  neck  and  kissing  him,  said  “ O father,  do 
you  not  know  that  Perseus  is  dead  ? meaning  a little  dog  of 
that  name  that  was  brought  up  in  the  house  with  her ; to 


y^:MTLIUS  PAULUS. 


417 


which  ^niilius  replied,  Good  fortune,  my  daughter  ; I em- 
brace the  omen.”  This  Cicero,  the  orator,  relates  in  his  book 
on  divination. 

It  was  the  custom  for  such  as  were  chosen  consuls,  from  a 
stage  designed  for  such  purposes,  to  address  the  people,  and 
return  them  thanks  for  their  favor,  ^milius,  therefore,  hav- 
ing  gathered  an  assembly,  spoke  and  said  that  he  sued  for  the 
fust  consulship,  because  he  himself  stood  in  need  of  such 
honor  ; but  for  the  second,  because  they  wanted  a general ; 
upon  which  account  he  thought  there  was  no  thanks  due : if 
they  judged  they  could  manage  the  war  by  any  other  to  more 
advantage,  he  would  willingly  yield  up  his  charge  ; but,  if 
they  confided  in  him,  they  were  not  to  make  themselves  his 
colleagues  in  his  office,  or  raise  reports,  and  criticise  his  ac- 
tions, but,  without  talking,  supply  him  with  means  and  assist- 
ance necessary  to  the  carrying  on  of  the  war ; for  if  they 
proposed  to  command  their  own  commander,  they  would 
render  this  expedition  more  ridiculous  than  the  former.  By 
this  speech  he  inspired  great  reverence  for  him  amongst  the 
citizens,  and  great  expectations  of  future  success ; all  were 
well  pleased,  that  they  had  passed  by  such  as  sought  to  be 
preferred  by  flattery,  and  fixed  upon  a commander  endued 
with  wisdom  and ‘courage  to  tell  them  the  truth.  So  entirely 
did  the  people  of  Rome,  that  they  might  rule,  and  become 
masters  of  the  world,  yield  obedience  and  service  to  reason 
and  superior  virtue. 

That  ^milius,  setting  forward  to  the  war,  by  a prosperous 
voyage  and  successful  journey,  arrived  with  speed  and  safety 
at  his  camp  I attribute  to  good  fortune  ; but,  when  I see 
how  the  war  under  his  command  was  brought  to  a happy  issue, 
])artly  by  his  own  daring  boldness,  partly  by  his  good  counsel, 
partly  by  the  ready  administration  of  his  friends,  partly  by 
his  presence  of  mind  and  skill  to  embrace  the  most  proper 
advice  in  the  extremity  of  danger,  I cannot  ascribe  any  of  his 
remarkable  and  famous  actions  (as  I can  those  of  ether  com- 
manders) to  his  so  much  celebrated  good  fortune  ; unless  you 
will  say  that  the  covetousness  of  Perseus  was  the  good  fortune 
of  ^milius.  The  truth  is,  Perseus’  fear  of  spending  his 
money  was  the  destruction  and  utter  ruin  of  all  those  splendid 
and  great  preparations  with  which  the  Macedonians  were  in 
high  hopes  to  carry  on  the  war  with  success.  P"or  there  came 
at  his  request  ten  thousand  horsemen  of  the  Basternae,  and  as 
many  foot,  who  were  to  keep  pace  with  them,  and  supply  their 
places  in  case  of  failure  ; a’l  of  them  professed  soldiers,  men 

27 


4i8 


iEMILIUS  PAULUS. 


skilled  neither  in  tilling  of  land,  nor  in  navigation  of  ships^ 
nor  able  to  get  their  living  by  grazing,  but  whose  only  business 
and  single  art  and  trade  it  was  to  fight  and  conquer  all  that 
resisted  them.  When  these  came  into  the  district  of  Maedica  ; 
and  encamped  and  mixed  with  the  king^s  soldiers,  being  men 
of  great  stature,  admirable  at  their  exercises,  great  boasters, 
and  loud  in  their  threats  against  their  enemies,  they  gave  new 
courage  to  the  Macedonians,  who  were  ready  to  think  the 
Romans  would  not  be  able  to  confront  them,  but  would  be 
struck  with  terror  at  their  looks  and  motions,  they  were  so 
strange  and  so  formidable  to  behold.  When  Perseus  had 
thus  encouraged  his  men,  and  elevated  them  with  these  great 
hopes,  as  soon  as  a thousand  gold  pieces  were  demanded  for 
each  captain,  he  was  so  amazed  and  beside  himself  at  the 
vastness  of  the  amount,  that  out  of  mere  stinginess  he  drew 
back  and  let  himself  lose  their  assistance,  as  if  he  had  been 
some  steward,  not  the  enemy  of  the  Romans,  and  would  have 
to  give  an  exact  account  of  the  expenses  of  the  war  to  those 
with  whom  he  waged  it.  Nay  when  he  had  his  foes  as  tutors, 
to  instruct  him  what  he  had  to  do,  who,  besides  their  other 
preparations,  had  a hundred  thousand  men  drawn  together 
and  in  readiness  for  their  service  ; yet  he  that  was  to  engage 
against  so  considerable  a force,  and  in  a war  that  was  main- 
taining such  numbers  as  this,  nevertheless  doled  out  his 
money,  and  put  seals  on  his  bags,  and  was  as  fearful  of  touch- 
ing it,  as  if  it  had  belonged  to  some  one  else.  And  all  this 
'vas  done  by  one  not  descended  from  Lydians  or  Phoenicians, 
but  who  could  pretend  to  some  share  of  the  virtues  of  Alex- 
ander and  Philip,  whom  he  was  allied  to  by  birth ; men  who 
conquered  the  world  by  judging  that  empire  was  to  be  pur- 
chased by  money,  not  money  by  empire.  Certainly  it  became 
a proverb,  that  not  Philip,  but  his  gold,  took  the  cities  of 
Greece.  And  Alexander,  when  he  undertook  his  expedition 
against  the  Indians,  and  found  his  Macedonians  encumbered 
and  appear  to  march  heavily  with  their  Persian  spoils,  first 
set  fire  to  his  own  carriages,  and  thence  persuaded  the  rest 
to  imitate  his  example,  that  thus  freed  they  might  proceed  to 
the  war  without  hindrance.  Whereas  Perseus,  abounding  in 
wealth,  would  not  preserve  himself,  his  children,  and  his  king- 
dom, at  the  expense  of  a small  part  of  his  treasure  ; but  chose 
rather  to  be  carried  away  with  numbers  of  his  subjects  with  the 
name  of  the  wealthy  captive,  and  show  the  Romans  what  great 
riches  he  had  husbanded  and  preserved  for  them.  For  he 
not  '^nly  played  false  with  the  Gauls,  and  sent  them  away. 


iEMILIUS  PAULUS. 


419 


but  also,  after  alluring  Genthius,  king  of  the  Illyrians,  by  the 
hopes  of  three  hundred  talents,  to  assist  him  in  the  war,  he 
caused  the  money  to  be  counted  out  in  the  presence  of  his 
messengers,  and  to  be  sealed  up.  Upon  which  Genthius, 
thinking  himself  possessed  of  what  he  desired,  committed  a 
wicked  and  shameful  act : he  seized  and  imprisoned  the  am- 
bassadors sent  to  him  from  the  Romans.  Whence  Perseus, 
concluding  that  there  was  now  no  need  of  money  to  n:ake 
Genthius  an  enemy  to  the  Romans,  but  that  he  had  given  a 
lasting  earnest  of  his  enmity,  and  by  his  flragrant  injustice 
sufficiently  involved  himself  in  the  war,  defrauded  the  unfor- 
tunate king  of  his  three  hundred  talents,  and  without  any  con- 
cern beheld  him,  his  wife,  and  children,  in  a short  time  after, 
carried  out  of  their  kingdom,  as  from  their  nest,  by  Lucius 
Anicius,  who  was  sent  against  him  with  an  army. 

^milius,  coming  against  such  an  adversary,  made  light 
indeed  of  him,  but  admired  his  preparation  and  power.  For 
he  had  four  thousand  horse,  and  not  much  fewer  than  forty 
thousand  full-armed  foot  of  the  phalanx  ; and  planting  himself 
along  the  seaside,  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Olympus,  in  ground 
with  no  access  on  any  side,  and  on  all  sides  fortified  with 
fences  and  bulwarks  of  wood,  remained  in  great  security, 
thinking  by  delay  and  expense  to  weary  out  ^milius.  But 
he,  in  the  mean  time,  busy  in  thought,  weighed  all  counsels 
and  all  means  of  attack,  and  perceiving  his  soldiers,  from 
their  former  want  of  discipline,  to  be  impatient  of  delay,  and 
ready  on  all  occasions  to  teach  their  general  his  duty,  rebuked 
them,  and  bade  them  not  meddle  with  what  was  not  their 
concern,  but  only  take  care  that  they  and  their  arms  were  in 
readiness,  and  to  use  their  swords  like  Romans  when  their 
commander  should  think  fit  to  employ  them.  Further  he  or- 
dered, that  the  sentinels  by  night  should  watch  without  jave- 
lins, that  thus  they  might  be  more  careful  and  surer  to  resist 
sleep,  having  no  arms  to  defend  themselves  against  any  attacks 
of  an  enemy. 

What  most  annoyed  the  army  was  the  want  of  water ; for 
only  a little,  and  that  foul,  flowed  out,  or  rather  came  by  drops 
from  a spring  adjoining  the  sea ; but  ^milius,  considering 
that  he  was  at  the  foot  of  the  high  and  woody  mountain  Olym- 
pus, and  conjecturing  by  the  flourishing  growth  of  the  trees 
that  there  were  springs  that  had  their  course  under  ground,  dug 
a great  many  holes  and  wells  along  the  foot  of  the  mountain, 
which  were  presently  filled  with  pure  water  escaping  from  its 
confinement  into  the  vacuum  they  afforded.  A^though  there 


4-20 


yEMTLTUS  PAULUS. 


are  some,  indeed,  who  deny  that  there  are  reservoirs  of  water 
iying  ready  provided  out  of  sight,  in  the  places  from  whence 
springs  flow,  and  that  when  they  appear,  they  merely  issue 
and  run  out;  on  the  contrary,  they  say,  they  are  then  formed 
and  come  into  existence  for  the  first  time,  by  the  liquefaction 
of  the  surrounding  matter;  and  that  this  change  is  caused  by 
density  and  cold,  when  the  moist  vapor,  by  being  closely 
pressed  together,  becomes  fluid.  As  women’s  breasts  are  no! 
like  vessels  full  of  milk  always  prepared  and  ready  to  flow 
from  them  ; but  their  nourishment  being  changed  in  their 
breasts,  is  there  made  milk,  and  from  thence  is  pressed  out. 
In  like  manner,  places  of  the  earth  that  are  cold  and  full  of 
springs,  do  not  contain  any  hidden  waters  or  receptacles 
which  are  capable,  as  from  a source  always  ready  and  fur- 
nished, of  supplying  all  the  brooks  and  deep  rivers  ; but  by 
compressing  and  condensing  the  vapors  and  air,  they  turn 
them  into  that  substance.  And  thus  places  that  are  dug  open 
flow  by  that  pressure,  and  afford  the  more  water  (as  the 
breasts  of  women  do  milk  by  their  being  sucked),  the  vapor 
thus  moistening  and  becoming  fluid ; whereas  ground  that 
remains  idle  and  undug  is  not  capable  of  producing  any  water, 
whilst  it  wants  the  motion  which  is  the  cause  of  liquefaction. 
But  those  that  assert  this  opinion,  give  occasion  to  the  doubt- 
ful to  argue,  that  on  the  same  ground  there  should  be  no 
blood  in  living  creatures,  but  that  it  must  be  formed  by  the 
wound,  some  sort  of  spirit  or  flesh  being  changed  into  a liquid 
and  flowing  matter.  Moreover,  they  are  refuted  by  the  fact 
that  men  who  dig  mines,  either  in  sieges  or  for  metals,  meet 
with  rivers,  which  are  not  collected  by  little  and  little  (as 
'*.]ust  necessarily  be,  if  they  had  their  being  at  the  very  instant 
the  earth  was  opened),  but  break  out  at  once  with  violence  ; 
and  upon  the  cutting  through  a rock,  there  often  gush  out 
great  quantities  of  water,  which  then  as  suddenly  cease.  But 
of  this  enough. 

/Emilius  lay  still  for  some  days,  and  it  is  said,  that  there 
were  never  two  great  armies  so  nigh,  that  enjoyed  so  much 
quiet.  When  he  had  tried  and  considered  all  things,  he  was 
informed  that  , there  was  yet  one  passage  left  unguarded, 
through  Perrhaebia  by  the  temple  of  Apollo  and  the  Rock. 
Gathering,  therefore,  more  hope  from  the  place  being  left 
defenceless  than  fear  from  the  roughness  and  difficulty  of  the 
passage,  he  proposed  it  for  consultation.  Amongst  those  that 
were  present  at  the  council,  Scipio,  surnamed  Nasica,  son-in- 
law to  Scipio  Africanus,  who  afterwards  was  so  powerful  in 


i¥:MILTUS  PAULUS. 


421 


the  senate-house,  was  the  first  that  offered  himself  to  command 
those  that  should  be  sent  to  encompass  the  enemy.  Next  to 
him,  Fabius  Maximus,  eldest  son  of  ^milius,  although  yev 
very  young,  offered  himself  with  great  zeal,  ^milius,  rejoic- 
ing, gave  them,  not  so  many  as  Polybius  states,  but,  as  Nasica 
himself  tells  us  in  a brief  letter  which  he  wrote  to  one  of  the 
kings  with  an  account  of  the  expedition,  three  thousand  Ital- 
ians :hat  were  not  Romans,  and  his  left  wing  consisting  of 
five  thousand.  Taking  with  him,  besides  these,  one  hundred 
and  twenty  horsemen,  and  two  hundred  Thracians  and  Cretans 
intermixed  that  Harpalus  had  sent,  he  began  his  journey 
towards  the  sea,  and  encamped  near  the  temple  of  Hercules, 
as  if  he  designed  to  embark,  and  so  to  sail  round  and  environ 
the  enemy.  But  when  the  soldiers  had  supped  and  it  was 
dark,  he  made  the  captains  acquainted  with  his  real  intentions, 
and  marching  all  night  in  the  opposite  direction,  away  from 
the  sea,  till  he  came  under  the  temple  of  Apollo,  there  rested 
his  army.  At  this  place  Mount  Olympus  rises  in  height  more 
than  ten  furlongs,  as  appears  by  the  epigram  made  by  the 
man  that  measured  it : 

The  summit  of  Olympus,  at  the  site 
Where  stands  Apollo’s  temple,  has  a height 
Of  full  ten  furlongs  by  the  line,  and  more, 

Ten  furlongs,  and  one  hundred  feet,  less  four 
Eumelus’s  son,  Xenagoras,  reached  the  place. 

Adieu,  O king,  and  do  thy  pilgrim  grace. 

It  is  allowed,  say  the  geometricians,  that  no  mountain  in 
height  or  sea  in  depth  exceeds  ten  furlongs,  and  yet  it  seems 
probable  that  Xenagoras  did  not  take  his  admeasurement 
carelessly,  buCaccording  to  the  rules  of  art,  and  with  instru- 
ments for  the  purpose.  Here  it  was  that  Nasica  passed  the 
night. 

A Cretan  deserted,  who  fled  to  the  enemy  during  the 
march,  discovered  to  Perseus  the  design  which  the  Romans' 
had  to  encompass  him  : for  he,  seeing  that  ^milius  lay  still, 
had  not  suspected  any  such  attempt.  He  was  startled  at  the 
news,  yet  did  not  put  his  army  in  motion,  but  sent  ten 
thousand  mercenary  soldiers  and  two  thousand  Macedonians, 
under  command  of  Milo,  with  order  to  hasten  and  possess 
themselves  of  the  passes.  Polybius  relates  that  the  Romans 
found  these  men  asleep  when  they  attacked  them  ; but  Nasica 
says  there  was  a sharp  and  severe  conflict  on  the  top  of  the 
mountain,  that  he  himself  encountered  a mercenary  Thracian, 
pierced  him  through  with  his  javelin,  and  slew  him  ; and  that 


iEMILIUS  PAULUS, 


422 

the  enemy  being  forced  to  retreat,  Milo  stripped  to  his  coal 
and  fled  shamefully  without  his  armor,  while  he  followed  with- 
out danger,  and  conveyed  the  whole  army  down  into  the 
country. 

After  this  event,  Perseus,  now  grown  fearful,  and  fallen 
from  his  hopes,  removed  his  camp  in  all  haste  ; he  was  under 
the  necessity  either  to  stop  before  Pydna^  and  there  run  the 
Iiazard  of  a battle,  or  disperse  his  army  into  cities,  and  there 
expect  the  event  of  the  war,  which,  having  once  made  its  way 
into  his  country,  could  not  be  driven  out  without  great 
slaughter  and  bloodshed.  But  Perseus,  being  told  by  his 
friends  that  he  was  much  superior  in  number,  and  that  men 
fighting  in  the  defence  of  their  wives  and  children  mu§t  needs 
feel  all  the  more  courage,  especially  when  all  was  done  in  the 
sight  of  their  king,  who  himself  was  engaged  in  equal  danger, 
was  thus  again  encouraged  ; and,  pitching  his  camp,  prepared 
himself  to  fight,  viewed  the  country,  and  gave  out  the  com- 
mands, as  if  he  designed  to  set  upon  the  Romans  as  soon  as 
they  approached.  The  place  was  a field  fit  for  the  action  of 
a phalanx,  which  requires  smooth  standing  and  even  ground, 
and  also  had  divers  little  hills,  one  joining  another,  fit  for  the 
motions  whether  in  retreat  or  advance  of  light  troops  and 
skirmishers.  Through  the  middle  ran  the  rivers  ^son  and 
Leucus,  which,  though  not  very  deep,  it  being  the  latter  end 
of  summer,  yet  were  likely  enough  to  give  the  Romans  some 
trouble. 

As  soon  as  ^milius  had  rejoined  Nasica,  he  advanced  in 
battle  array  against  the  enemy ; but  when  he  found  how  they 
were  drawn  up,  and  the  number  of  their  forces,  he  regarded 
them  with  admiration  and  surprise,  and  halted,  considering 
within  himself.  The  young  commanders,  eager  to  fight,  riding 
along  by  his  side,  pressed  him  not  to  delay,  and  most  of  all 
Nasica,  flushed  with  his  late  success  on  Olympus.  To  whom 
.^milius  answered  with  a smile  : So  would  I do  were  I of 
your  age  ; but  many  victories  have  taught  me  the  ways  in 
which  men  are  defeated,  and  forbid  me  to  engage  soldiers 
weary  with  a long  march,  against  an  army  drawn  up  and  pre- 
pared for  battle.’’ 

Then  he  gave  command  that  the  front  of  his  army,  and 
such  as  were  in  sight  of  the  enemy,  should  form  as  if  ready  to 
engage,  and  those  in  the  rear  should  cast  up  the  trenches  and 
fortify  the  camp  ; so  that  the  hindmost  in  succession  wheeling 
off  by  degrees  and  withdrawing,  their  whole  order  was  insen- 
sibly broken  up,  and  the  army  encamoed  without  noise  01 



iEMILIUS  PAULUS. 


423 


When  it  was  night,  and,  supper  being  over,  all  were  turning 
to  sleep  and  rest,  on  a sudden  the  moon,  which  was  then  at 
full  and  high  in  the  heavens,  grew  dark,  and  by  degrees  losing 
her  light,  passed  through  various  colors,  and  at  length  was 
totally  eclipsed.  The  Romans,  according  to  their  custom, 
clattering  brass  pans  and  lifting  up  fire-brands  and  torchei 
into  the  air,  invoked  the  return  of  her  light ; the  Macedonians 
behaved  far  otherwise  : terror  and  amazement  seized  their 
whole  army,  and  a rumor  crept  by  degrees  into  their  camp 
that  this  eclipse  portended  even  that  of  their  king,  ^miliuss 
was  no  novice  in  these  things,  nor  was  ignorant  of  the  nature 
of  the  seeming  irregularities  of  eclipses, — that  in  a certain 
revolution  of  time,  the  moon  in  her  course  enters  the  shadow 
of  the  earth  and  is  there  obscured,  till,  passing  the  region  of 
darkness,  she  is  again  enlightened  by  the  sun.  Yet  being  a 
devout  man,  a religious  observer  of  sacrifices  and  the  art  of 
divination,  as  soon  as  he  perceived  the  moon  beginning  to 
regain  her  former  lustre,  he  offered  up  to  her  eleven  heifers. 
At  the  break  of  day  he  sacrificed  as  many  as  twenty  in  succes^ 
sion  to  Hercules,  without  any  token  that  his  offering  was  ac 
cepted  ; but  at  the  one  and  twentieth,  the  signs  promised 
victory  to  defei^ders.  He  then  vowed  a hecatomb  and  solemn 
sports  to  Hercules,  and  commanded  his  captains  to  make 
ready  for  battle,  staying  only  till  the  sun  should  decline  and 
come  round  to  the  west,  lest,  being  in  their  faces  in  the  morn- 
ing, it  should  dazzle  the  eyes  of  his  soldiers.  Thus  he  whiled 
away  the  time  in  his  tent,  which  was  open  towards  the  plain 
where  his  enemies  were  encamped. 

When  it  grew  towards  evening,  some  tell  us,  Hilmilius 
himself  used  a stratagem  to  induce  the  enemy  to  begin  the 
fight;  that  he  turned  loose  a horse  without  a bridle,  and  sent 
some  of  the  Romans  to  catch  him,  upon  whose  following  the 
beast  the  battle  began.  Others  relate  that  the  Thracians, 
under  the  command  of  one  Alexander,  set  upon  the  Roman 
beasts  of  burden  that  were  bringing  forage  to  the  camp  ; that 
to  oppose  these,  a party  of  seven  hundred  Ligurians  were  im 
mediately  detached  ; and  that,  relief  coming  still  from  both 
armies,  the  main  bodies  at  last  engaged.  Hi^milius,  like  a wise 
pilot,  foreseeing  by  the  present  waves  and  motion  of  the 
armies,  the  greatness  of  the  following  storm,  came  out  of  his 
tent,  went  through  the  legions,  and  encouraged  his  soldiers. 
Nasica,  in  the  meantime,  wlio  had  ridden  out  to  the  skirmish 
ers,  saw  the  whole  force  of  the  enemy  on  the  point  of  engaging. 
First  marched  llie  Thracians,  who  he  liimself  tells  \\s,  inspired 


iEMILIUS  PAULUS. 


424 

him  with  most  terror ; they  were  of  great  stature,  with  bright 
and  glittering  shields  and  black  frocks  under  them,  their  legs 
armed  with  greaves,  and  they  brandished,  as  they  moved, 
straight  and  heavily-ironed  spears  over  their  right  shoulders. 
Next  the  Thracians  marched  the  mercenary  soldiers,  armed 
after  different  fashions  ; with  these  the  Paeonians  were  mingled. 
'Fhese  were  succeeded  by  a third  division,  of  picked  men, 
native  Macedonians,  the  choicest  for  courage  and  strength,  in 
the  prime  of  life,  gleaming  with  gilt  armor  and-'scarlet  coats. 
As  these  were  taking  their  places  they  were  followed  from  the 
camp  by  the  troops  in  phalanx  called  the  Brazen  Shields,  so 
that  the  whole  plain  seemed  alive  with  the  flashing  of  steel 
and  the  glistening  of  brass  ; and  the  hills  also  with  their 
shouts,  as  they  cheered  each  other  on.  In  this  order  they 
marched,  and  with  such  boldness  and  speed,  that  those  that 
were  first  slain  died  at  but  two  furlongs  distance  from  the 
Roman  camp. 

The  battle  being  begun,  ^milius  came  in  and  found  that 
the  foremost  of  the  Macedonians  had  already  fixed  the  ends 
of  their  spears  into  the  shields  of  his  Romans,  so  that  it  was 
impossible  to  come  near  them  with  their  swords.  When  he 
saw  this,  and  observed  that  the  rest  of  the  Ma^cedonians  took 
the  targets  that  hung  on  their  left  shoulders,  and  brought 
them  round  before  them,  and  all  at  once  stooped  their  pikes 
against  their  enemies  shields,  and  considered  the  great  strength 
of  this  wall  of  shields,  and  the  formidable  appearance  of  a 
front  thus  bristling  with  arms,  he  was  seized  with  amazement 
and  alarm  : nothing  he  had  ever  seen  before  had  been  equal 
to  it ; and  in  after  times  he  frequently  used  to  speak  both  of 
the  sight  and  of  his  own  sensations.  These,  however,  he 
dissembled,  and  rode  through  his  army  without  either  breast- 
plate or  helmet,  with  a serene  and  cheerful  countenance. 

On  the  contrary,  as  Polybius  relates,  no  sooner  was  the 
battle  begun,  but  the  Macedonian  king  basely  withdrew  to 
the  city  Pydna,  under  a pretence  of  sacrificing  to  Hercules  : 
a god  that  is  not  wont  to  regard  the  faint  offerings  of  cowards, 
or  to  fulfil  unsanctioned  vows.  For  truly  it  can  hardly  be  a 
thing  that  heaven  would  sanction,  that  he  that  never  shoots 
should  carry  away  the  prize  ; he  triumph  that  slinks  from  the 
battle  ; he  that  takes  no  pains  meet  with  success,  or  the 
wicked  man  prosper.  But  to  ^milius’s  petitions  the  god 
listened ; he  prayed  for  victory  with  his  sword  in  his  hand, 
and  fought  while  entreating  divine  assistance. 

A certain  Posidonius,  who  has  at  some  length  written  a 


i^:MILIUS  PAULUS. 


42f 


histoiy  of  Perseus,  and  professes  to  have  Lved  at  the  time, 
and  to  have  been  himself  engaged  in  these  events,  denies  that 
Perseus  left  the  field  either  through  fear  or  pretence  of  sacrp 
ficing,  but  that,  the  very  day  before  the  fight,  he  received  a 
kick  from  a horse  on  his  thigh  ; that  though  very  much  dis- 
abled, and  dissuaded  by  all  his  friends,  he  commanded  one  of 
his  riding-horses  to  be  brought,  and  entered  the  field  unarm- 
ed ; that  amongst  an  infinite  number  of  darts  that  flew  about 
on  all  sides,  one  of  iron  lighted  on  him,  and  though  not 
with  the  point,  yet  by  a glance  struck  him  with  such  force  on 
his  left  side,  that  it  tore  his  clothes  and  so  bruised  his  flesh, 
that  the  mark  remained  a long  time  after.  This  is  what 
Posidonius  says  in  defence  of  Perseus. 

The  Romans  not  being  able  to  make  a breach  in  the  pha- 
lanx, one  Salius,  a commander  of  the  Pelignians,  snatched 
the  ensign  of  his  company  and  threw  it  amongst  the  enemies ; 
on  seeing  which,  the  Pelignians  (as  amongst  the  Italians  it  is 
always  thought  the  greatest  breach  of  honor  to  abandon  a 
standard)  rushed  with  great  violence  towards  the  place,  where 
the  conflict  grew  very  fierce,  and  the  slaughter  terrible  on 
both  sides.  For  these  endeavored  to  cut  the  spears  asunder 
with  their  swords,  or  to  beat  them  back  with  their  shields,  or 
put  them  by  with  their  hands  ; and,  on  the  other  side,  the 
Macedonians  held  their  long  sarissas  in  both  hands,  and 
pierced  those  that  came  in  their  way  quite  through  their 
armor,  no  shield  or  corslet  being  able  to  resist  the  force  of 
that  weapon.  The  Pelignians  and  Marrucinians  were  thrown 
headlong  to  the  ground,  having  without  consideration,  with 
mere  animal  fury,  rushed  upon  a certain  death.  Their  first 
ranks  being  slain,  those  that  were  behind  were  forced  to  give 
back  ; it  cannot  be  said  they  fled,  but  they  retreated  towards 
Mount  Olocrus.  When  ^milius  saw  this,  Posidonius  relates, 
he  rent  his  clothes,  some  of  his  men  being  ready  to  fly,  and 
the  rest  not  willing  to  engage  with  a phalanx  into  which  they 
could  not  hope  to  make  any  entrance, — a sort  of  palisade,  as 
it  were,  impregnable  and  unapproachable,  with  its  close  array 
of  long  spears  everywhere  meeting  the  assailant.  Neverthe- 
less, the  unequalness  of  the  ground  would  not  permit  a widely 
extended  front  to  be  so  exactly  drawn  up  as  to  have  their 
shields  everywhere  joined  ; and  ^milius  perceived  that  there 
were  a great  many  interstices  and  breaches  in  the  Macedonian 
phalanx ; as  it  usually  happens  in  all  great  armies,  according 
to  the  different  efforts  of  the  combatants,  who  in  one  part 
press  forward  with  eagerness,  and  in  anothei  are  forced  to  fall 


426 


iEMILIUS  PAULUS. 


back.  Taking,  therefore,  this  occasion,  with  all  speed  he 
broke  up  his  men  into  their  cohorts,  and  gave  them  order  to 
fall  into  the  intervals  and  openings  of  the  enemy’s  body,  and 
not  to  make  one  general  attack  upon  them  all,  but  to  engage, 
as  they  were  divided,  in  several  partial  battles.  These  com- 
mands -:Emilius  gave  to  his  captains,  and  they  to  their  soldiers  ; 
and  no  sooner  had  they  entered  the  spaces  and  separated 
their  enemies,  but  they  charged  them,  some  on  their  sides 
where  they  were  naked  and  exposed,  and  others,  making  a cir- 
cuit, behind;  and  thus  destroyed  the  force  of  the  phalanx, 
which  consists  in  common  action  and  close  union.  And 
now,  come  to  light  man  to  man,  or  in  small  parties,  the  Mace- 
donians smote  in  vain  upon  firm  and  long  shields  with  their 
little  swords,  whilst  their  slight  bucklers  were  not  able  to  sus- 
tain the  weight  and  force  of  the  Roman  swords,  which  pierced 
through  all  their  armor  to  their  bodies  ; they  turned,  in  fine, 
and  fled. 

The  conflict  was  obstinate.  And  here  Marcus,  the  son  of 
Cato,  and  son-in-law  of  u^milius,  whilst-  he  showed  all  possi- 
ble courage,  let  fall  his  sword.  Being  a young  man  carefully 
brought  up  and  disciplined,  and,  as  son  of  so  renowned  a 
father,  bound  to  give  proof  of  more  than  ordinary  virtue,  he 
thought  his  life  but  a burden,  should  he  live  and  permit  his 
enemies  to  enjoy  this  spoil.  He  hurried  hither  and  thither, 
and  wherever  he  espied  a friend  or  companion,  declared  his 
misfortune,  and  begged  their  assistance ; a considerable  num- 
ber of  brave  men  being  thus  collected,  with  one  accord  they 
made  their  way  through  their  fellows  after  their  leader,  and 
fell  upon  the  enemy ; whom  after  a sharp  conflict,  many 
wounds,  and  much  slaughter,  they  repulsed,  possessed  the 
place  that  was  now  deserted  and  free,  and  set  themselves  to 
search  for  the  sword,  which  at  last  they  found  covered  with  a 
great  heap  of  arms  and  dead  bodies.  Overjoyed  with  this 
success,  they  raised  the  song  of  triumph,  and  with  more  eager- 
ness than  ever,  charged  the  foes  that  yet  remained  firm  and 
unbroken.  In  the  end,  three  thousand  of  the  chosen  men, 
who  kept  their  ground  and  fought  valiantly  to  the  last,  were 
all  cut  in  pieces,  while  the  slaughter  of  such  as  fled  was  also 
very  great.  The  plain  and  the  lower  part  of  the  hills  were 
filled  with  dead  bodies,  and  the  water  of  the  river  Leucus, 
which  the  Romans  did  not  pass  till  the  next  day  after  the 
battle,  was  tlien  mingled  with  blood.  For  it  is  said  there  fell 
more  than  twenty-five  thousand  of  the  enemy;  of  the  Romans, 
915  Posidonius  relates,  a hundred  ; as  Nasica,  only  fourscore. 


iEMILIUS  PAULUS. 


427 

This  battle,  though  so  great,  was  very  quickly  decided,  it 
beiog  three  in  the  afternoon  when  they  first  engaged,  and  not 
four  when  the  enemy  was  vanquished ; the  rest  of  the  day 
was  spent  in  pursuit  of  the  fugitives,  whom  they  followed 
about  thirteen  or  fourteen  miles,  so  that  it  was  far  in  the 
night  when  they  returned. 

All  the  others  were  met  by  their  servants  with  torches,  and 
brought  back  with  joy  and  great  triumph  to  their  tents,  which 
were  set  out  with  lights,  and  decked  with  wreaths  of  ivy  and 
laurel.  But  the  general  himself  was  in  great  grief.  Of  the 
two  sons  that  served  under  him  in  the  war,  the  youngest  was 
missing,  whom  he  held  most  dear,  and  whose  courage  and 
good  qualities  he  perceived  much  to  excel  those  of  his 
brothers.  Bold  and  eager  for  distinction,  and  still  a mere 
child  in  age,  he  concluded  that  he  had  perished,  whilst  for 
want  of  experience  he  had  engaged  himself  too  far  amongst 
his  enemies.  His  sorrow  and  fears  became  known  to  the 
army ; the  soldiers,  quitting  their  suppers,  ran  about  with 
lights,  some  to  ^milius’s  tent,  some  out  of  the  trenches,  to 
seek  him  amongst  such  as  were  slain  in  the  first  onset.  There 
was  nothing  but  grief  in  the  camp,  and  the  plain  was  filled 
with  the  cries  of  men  calling  out  for  Scipio  ; for,  from  his 
very  youth,  he  was  an  object  of  admiration  ; endowed  above 
any  of  his  equals  with  the  good  qualities  requisite  either  for 
command  or  counsel.  At  length,  when  it  was  late,  and  they 
almost  despaired,  he  returned  from  the  pursuit  with  only  two 
or  three  of  his  companions  all  covered  with  the  fresh  blood 
of  his  enemies,  having  been,  like  some  dog  of  noble  breed, 
carried  away  by  the  pleasure,  greater  than  he  could  control, 
of  his  first  victory.  This  was  that  Scipio  that  afterwards  de- 
stroyed Carthage  and  Numantia,  and  was,  without  dispute, 
the  first  of  the  Romans  in  merit,  and  had  the  greatest  author- 
ity amongst  them.  Thus  Fortune,  deferring  her  displeasure 
and  jealousy  of  such  great  success  to  some  other  time,  let 
/Emilius  at  present  enjoy  this  victory,  without  any  detraction 
or  diminution. 

As  for  Perseus,  from  Pydna  he  fled  to  Pella  with  his 
cavalry,  which  was  as  yet  almost  entire.  But  when  the  foot 
came  up  with  them,  and,  upbraiding  them  as  cowards  and 
traitors,  tried  to  pull  them  off  their  horses,  and  fell  to  blows, 
Perseus,  fearing  the  tumult,  forsook  the  common  road,  and, 
lest  he  should  be  known,  pulled  off  his  purple,  and  carried  it 
before  him,  and  took  his  crown  in  his  hand  and,  that  ho 
might  the  better  converse  with  his  friends,  alighted  from  his 


428 


^MILIUS  PAULUS. 


horse  and  led  him.  Of  those  that  were  about  him,  one 
stopped,  pretending  to  tie  his  shoe  that  was  loose,  another  to 
water  his  horse,  a third  to  drink  himself  ; and  thus  lagging 
behind,  by  degrees  left  him,  they  hadng  not  so  much  reason 
to  fear  their  enemies,  as  his  cruelty  ; for  he,  disordered  by  his 
misfortune,  sought  to  clear  himself  by  laying  the  cause  of  the 
overthrow  upon  everybody  else.  He  arrived  at  Pella  in  the 
night,  where  Euctus  and  Eudceus,  two  of  his  treasurers,  came 
to  him,  and,  what  with  their  reflecting  on  his  former  faults, 
and  their  free  and  ill-timed  admonitions  and  counsels,  so 
exasperated  him,  that  he  killed  them  both,  stabbing  them 
with  his  own  dagger.  After  this,  nobody  stuck  to  him  but 
Evander  the  Cretan,  Archedemus  the  ^tolian,  and  Neon  the 
Boeotian.  Of  the  common  soldiers  there  followed  him  only 
those  from  Crete,  not  out  of  any  good-will,  but  because  they 
were  as  constant  to  his  riches  as  the  bees  to  their  hive.  For 
he  carried  a great  treasure  with  him,  out  of  which  he  had  suf- 
fered them  to  take  cups,  bowls,  and  other  vessels  of  silver  and 
gold,  to  the  value  of  fifty  talents.  But  when  he  was  come  tc 
Amphipolis,  and  afterwards  to  Galepsus,  and  his  fears  were  a 
little  abated,  he  relapsed  into  his  old  and  constitutional  dis- 
ease of  covetousness,  and  lamented  to  his  friends  that  he  had, 
through  inadvertency,  allowed  some  gold  plate  which  had  be 
longed  to  Alexander  the  Great  to  go  into  the  hands  of  the 
Cretans,  and  besought  those  that  had  it,  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 
to  exchange  with  him  again  for  money.  Those  that  under- 
stood him  thoroughly  knew  very  well  that  he  only  played  the 
Cretan  with  the  Cretans,  but  those  that  believed  him,  and  re- 
stored what  they  had,  were  cheated ; as  he  not  only  did  not 
pay  the  money,  but  by  craft  got  thirty  talents  more  of  his 
friends  into  his  hands  (wdiich  in  a short  time  after  fell  to  the 
enemy),  and  with  them  sailed  to  Samothrace,  and  there  fled 
to  the  temple  of  Castor  and  Pollux  for  refuge. 

I’he  Macedonians  were  always  accounted  great  lovers  ol 
their  kings,  but  now,  as  if  their  chief  prop  was  broken,  they 
all  gave  way  together,  and  submitted  to  u^milius,  and  in  two 
days  made  him  master  of  their  whole  country.  This  seems 
to  confirm  the  opinion  which  ascribes  whatever  he  did  to 
good  fortune.  The  omen,  also,  that  happened  at  Amphi- 
polis, has  a supernatural  character.  When  he  was  sacri- 
ficing there,  and  the  holy  rites  were  just  begun,  on  a sudden, 
lightning  fell  upon  the  altar,  set  the  w^ood  on  fire,  and 
completed  the  immolation  of  the  sacrifice.  The  most  signal 
manifestation,  however,  of  preternatural  agency  appears  in 


yEMILIUS  PAULUS. 


429 


the  story  of  the  rumor  of  his  success.  Foi  on  the  fourth  clay 
after  Perseus  was  vanquished  at  Pydiia,  whilst  the  people  at 
Rome  were  seeing  the  horse-races,  a report  suddenly  rose  at 
the  entrance  of  the  theatre  that  ^milius  had  defeated  Per- 
seus in  a great  battle,  and  was  reducing  all  Macedonia  under 
his  power ; and  from  thence  it  spread  amongst  the  people, 
and  created  general  joy,  with  shoutings  and  acclamations  for 
that  whole  day  through  the  city.  But  when  no  certain  author 
v;as  found  of  the  news,  and  every  one  alike  had  taken  it  at 
random,  it  was  abandoned  for  the  present  and  thought  no 
more  of,  until,  a few  days  after,  certain  intelligence  came,  and 
then  the  first  was  looked  upon  as  no  less  than  a miracle,  hav- 
ing, under  an  appearance  of  fiction,  contained  what  was  real 
and  true.  It  is  reported,  also,  that  the  news  of  the  battle 
fought  in  Italy,  near  the  river  Sagra,  was  conveyed  into  Pel- 
oponnesus the  same  day,  and  of  that  at  Mycale  against  the 
Medes,  to  Plataea.  When  the  Romans  had  defeated  the 
Tarquins,  who  were  combined  with  the  Latins,  a little  after, 
there  were  seen  at  Rome  two  tall  and  comely  men,  who  pro 
fessed  to  bring  the  news  from  the  camp.  They  were  con- 
jectured to  be  Castor  and  Pollux.  The  first  man  that  spoke 
to  them  in  the  forum,  near  the  fountain  where  they  were  cool- 
ing their  horses,  which  were  all  of  a foam,  expressed  surprise 
at  the  report  of  the  victory,  when,  it  is  said,  they  smiled,  and 
gently  touched  his  beard  with  their  hands,  the  hair  of  which 
from  being  black  was,  on  the  spot,  changed  to  yellow.  This 
gave  credit  to  what  they  said,  and  fixed  the  name  of  Aheno- 
barbus,  or  Brazen-beard,  on  the  man.  And  a thing  which 
happened  in  our  own  time  will  make  all  these  credible.  For 
when  Antonius  rebelled  against  Domitian,  and  Rome  was  in 
consternation,  expecting  great  wars  from  the  quarter  of  Ger- 
many, all  on  a sudden,  and  nobody  knows  upon  what  account, 
ihe  people  spontaneously  gave  out  a rumor  of  victory,  and  the 
news  ran  current  through  the  city,  that  Antonius  himself  was 
slain,  his  whole  army  destroyed,  and  not  so  much  as  a part  of 
il  escaped ; nay,  this  belief  was  so  strong  and  positive,  that 
many  of  the  magistrates  offered  up  sacrifice.  But  when,  at 
lerjgth,  the  author  was  sought  for,  and  none  was  to  be  found, 
it  vanished  by  degrees,  every  one  shifting  it  off  from  himself 
to  another,  and,  at  last,  was  lost  in  the  numberless  crowd,  as 
in  a vast  ocean  and,  having  no  solid  ground  to  support  its 
credit,  was  in  a short  time  not  so  much  as  named  in  the  city. 
Nevertiieless,  when  Domitian  marched  out  with  his  forces  to 
the  war,  he  met  with  messengers  and  letters  that  gave  him  a 


430 


^iMILIUS  PAULUS. 


relation  of  the  victory;  and  the  rumor,  it  was  found,  had 
come  the  very  day  it  was  gained,  though  the  distance  between 
the  places  was  more  than  twenty-five  hundred  miles.  The 
truth  of  this  no  man  of  our  time  is  igno,rant  of. 

But  to  proceed.  Cnaeus  Octavius,  who  was  joined  in  com- 
mand with  ^milius,  came  to  an  anchor  with  his  fleet  under 
Samothrace,  where,  out  of  respect  to  the  gods,  he  permitted 
Perseus  to  enjoy  the  benefit  of  refuge,  but  took  care  that  he 
should  not  escape  by  sea.  Notwithstanding,  Perseus  secretly 
persuaded  Oroandes  of  Crete,  master  of  a small  vessel,  to 
c )nvey  him  and  his  treasure  away.  He,  however,  playing  the 
true  Cretan,  took  in  the  treasure,  and  bade  him  come,  in  the 
night,  with  his  children  and  most  necessary  attendants,  to  the 
port  by  the  temple  of  Ceres  ; but,  as  soon  as  it  was  evening, 
set  sail  without  him.  It  had  been  sad  enough  for  Perseus  to 
be  forced  to  let  down  himself,  his  wife  and  children,  through 
a narrow  window  by  a wall, — people  altogether  unaccustomed 
to  hardship  and  flying ; but  that  which  drew  a far  sadder  sigh 
from  his  heart  was,  when  he  was  told  by  a man,  as  he  wan- 
dered on  the  shore,  that  he  had  seen  Oroandes  under  sail  in 
the  main  sea  ; it  being  now  about  daybreak.  So,  there  being 
no  hopes  left  of  escaping,  he  fled  back  again  to  the  wall, 
which  he  and  his  wife  recovered,  though  they  were  seen  by 
the  Romans,  before  they  could  reach  them.  His  children  he 
himself  had  delivered  into  the  hands  of  Ion,  one  that  had 
been  his  favorite,  but  now  proved  his  betrayer,  and  was  the 
chief  cause  that  forced  him  (beasts  themselves  will  do  so 
when  their  young  ones  are  taken)  to  come  and  yield  himself 
up  to  those  that  had  them  in  their  power.  His  greatest  con- 
fidence was  in  Nasica,  and  it  was  for  him  he  called,  but  he 
not  being  there,  he  bewailed  his  misfortune,  and,  seeing  there 
was  no  possible  remedy,  surrendered  himself  to  Octavius. 
And  here,  in  particular,  he  made  it  manifest  that  he  was 
possessed  with  a vice  more  sordid  than  covetousness  itself, 
namel}^,  the  fondness  of  life ; by  which  he  deprived  himself 
even  of  pity,  the  only  thing  that  fortune  never  takes  away 
from  the  most  wretched.  He  desired  to  be  brought  to  ^mil- 
ius,  who  arose  from  his  seat,  and  accompanied  with  his 
friends  went  to  receive  him,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  as  a great 
man  fallen  by  the  anger  of  the  gods  and  his  own  ill  fortune  ; 
when  Perseus — the  most  shameful  of  sights — threw  himself  at 
his  feet,  embraced  his  knees,  and  uttered  unmanly  cries  and 
petitions,  such  as  ^milius  was  not  able  to  bear,  ncr  would 
vouchsafe  to  hear  : but  looking  on  him  with  a sad  and  angT> 


yilMlLIUS  PAULUS. 


43  i 

countenance  he  said,  Why,  unhappy  man,  do  you  thus  take 
pains  to  exonerate  fortune  of  your  heaviest  charge  against 
her,  by  conduct  that  will  make  it  seem  that  you  are  not  un- 
justly in  calamity,  and  that  it  is  not  your  present  condition, 
but  your  former  happiness,  that  was  more  than  your  deserts  ? 
And  why  depreciate  also  my  victory,  and  make  my  conquests 
insignificant,  by  proving  yourself  a coward,  and  a foe  beneath 
a Roman  ? Distressed  valor  challenges  great  respect,  even 
from  enemies ; but  cowardice,  though  never  so  successful, 
from  the  Romans  has  always  met  with  scorn.”  Yet  for  all 
this  he  took  him  up,  gave  him  his  hand,  and  delivered  him 
into  the  custody  of  Tubero.  Meantime,  he  himself  carried 
his  sons,  his  sons-in-law,  and  others  of  chief  rank,  especially 
of  the  younger  sort,  back  with  him  into  ^his  tent,  where  for  a 
long  time  he  sat  dov/n  without  speaking  one  word,  insomuch 
that  they  all  wondered  at  him.  At  last,  he  began  to  dis- 
course of  fortune  and  human  affairs.  Is  it  meet,”  said  he, 
^‘for  him  that  knows  he  is  but  man,  in  his  greatest  prosper- 
ity to  pride  himself,  and  be  exalted  at  the  conquest  of  a city, 
nation,  or  kingdom,  and  not  rather  well  to  weigh  this  change 
of  fortune,  in  which  all  warriors  may  see  an  example  of  their 
common  frailty,  and  learn  a lesson  that  there  is  nothing  dura- 
ble or  constant  ? For  what  time  can  men  select  to  think 
themselves  secure,  when  that  of  victory  itself  forces  us  more 
than  any  to  dread  our  own  fortune  ? and  a very  little  con- 
sideration on  the  law  of  things,  and  how  all  are  hurried 
round,  and  each  man’s  station  changed,  will  introduce  sad- 
ness in  the  midst  of  the  greatest  joy.  Or  can  you,  when  you 
see  before  your  eyes  the  succession  of  Alexander  himself,  who 
arrived  at  the  height  of  power  and  ruled  the  greatest  empire, 
in  the  short  space  of  an  hour  trodden  under  foot, — when  you 
behold  a king,  that  was  but  even  now  surrounded  with  so 
numerous  an  army,  receiving  nourishment  to  support  his  life 
from  the  hands  of  his  conquerors, — can  you,  I say,  believe 
there 's  any  certainty  in  what  we  now  possess,  whilst  there  is 
such  a thing  as  chance  ? No,  young  men,  cast  off  that  vain 
pride  and  empty  boast  of  victory  ; sit  down  with  humility, 
looking  always  for  what  is  yet  to  come,  and  the  possible  future 
reverses  which  the  divine  displeasure  may  eventually  make  the 
end  of  our  present  happiness.”  It  is  said  that  ^milius,  hav- 
ing spoken  much  more  to  the  same  purpose,  dismissed  the 
jroung  men  properly  humbled,  and  with  their  vainglory  and 
insolence  thoroughly  chastened  and  curbed  by  his  address. 

When  this  was  done,  he  put  his  army  into  garrisons,  to 


432 


i^MlLIUS  PAULUS. 


refresh  themselves,  and  v;ent  himself  to  visit  Greece,  and  to 
spend  a short  time  in  relaxations  equally  honorable  and 
numane.  For  as  he  passed,  he  eased  the  people’s  grievances, 
reformed  their  governments,  and  bestowed  gifts  upon  them  ; 
to  some,  corn, — to  others,  oil  out  of  the  king’s  storehouses,  in 
which,  they  report,  there  were  such  vast  quantities  laid  up, 
that  receivers  and  petitioners  were  lacking  before  they  could 
be  exhausted.  In  Delphi  he  found  a great  square  pillar  of 
vvhite  marble,  designed  for  the  pedestal  of  king  Perseus' 
golden  statue,  on  which  he  commanded  his  own  to  be  placed, 
alleging  that  it  was  but  just  that  the  conquered  should  give 
place  to  the  conquerors.  In  Olympia  he  is  said  to  have  ut- 
tered the  saying  everybody  has  heard,  that  Phidias  had  carved 
Homer’s  Jupiter.  When  the  ten  commissioners  arrived  from 
Rome,  he  delivered  up  again  to  the  Macedonians  their  cities 
and  country,  granting  them  to  live  at  liberty,  and  according 
to  their  own  laws,  only  paying  the  Romans  the  tribute  of  a 
hundred  talents,  double  which  sum  they  had  been  wont  to  pay 
to  their  kings.  Then  he  celebrated  all  manner  of  shows  and 
games,  and  sacrifices  to  the  gods,  and  made  great  entertain- 
ments and  feasts  ; the  charge  of  all  which  he  liberally  defray- 
ed out  of  the  king’s  treasury  ; and  showed  that  he  understood 
the  ordering  and  placing  of  his  guests,  and  how  every  man 
should  be  received,  answerably  to  their  rank  and  quality,  with 
such  nice  exactness,  that  the  Greeks  were  full  of  wonder, 
finding  the  care  of  these  matters  of  pleasure  did  not  escape 
him,  and  that  though  involved  in  such  important  business,  he 
could  observe  correctness  in  these  trifles.  Nor  was  it  least 
gratifying  to  him,  that,  amidst  all  the  magnificent  and  splen- 
did preparations,  he  himself  was  always  the  most  grateful 
sight,  and  greatest  pleasure  to  those  he  entertained.  And  he 
told  those  that  seemed  to  wonder  at  his  diligence,  that,  there 
was  the  same  spirit  shown  in  marshalling  a banquet  as  an 
aimy  ; in  rendering  the  one  formidable  to  the  enemy,  the 
other  acceptable  to  the  guests.  Nor  did  men  less  praise  his 
liberality,  and  the  greatness  of  his  soul,  than  his  other  virtues  ; 
for  he  would  not  so  much  as  see  those  great  quantities  of  sil- 
ver and  gold,  which  were  heaped  together  out  of  the  king’s 
palaces,  but  delivered  them  to  the  quaestors,  to  be  put  into 
the  public  treasury.  He  only  permitted  his  own  sons,  who  were 
great  lovers  of  learning,  to  take  the  king’s  books  ; and  when 
he  distributed  rewards  due  to  extraordinary  valor,  he  gave  his 
son-in-law,  Hilius  Tubero,  a bowl  that  weighed  five  pounds. 
Tills  is  that  Tubero  we  have  already  mentioned,  who  was  one 


iEMILIUS  PAULUS. 


433 


of  sixteen  relations  that  lived  together,  and  were  all  main< 
tained  out  of  one  little  farm  ; and  it  is  said,  that  this  was  the 
first  plate  that  ever  entered  the  house  of  the  ^lii,  brought 
thither  as  an  honor  and  reward  of  virtue ; before  this  time, 
neither  they  nor  their  wives  ever  made  use  either  of  silver  or 
gold. 

Having  thus  settlea  every  thing  well,  taking  his  leave  of 
the  Greeks,  and  exhorting  the  Macedonians,  that,  mindful  of 
the  liberty  they  had  received  from  the  Romans,  they  should 
endeavor  to  maintain  it  by  their  obedience  to  the  laws,  and 
concord  amongst  themselves,  he  departed  for  Epirus,  having 
orders  from  the  senate  to  give  the  soldiers  that  followed  him 
in  the  war  against  Perseus  the  pillage  of  the  cities  of  that 
country.  That  he  might  set  upon  them  all  at  once  by  sur- 
prise and  unawares,  he  summoned  ten  of  the  principal  men 
out  of  each,  whom  he  commanded,  on  such  an  appointed  day, 
to  bring  all  the  gold  and  silver  they  had  either  in  their  private 
houses  or  temples  ; and,  with  every  one  of  these,  as  if  it  were 
for  this  very  purpose,  and  under  a pretence  of  searching  for 
and  receiving  the  gold,  he  sent  a centurion  and  a guard  of 
soldiers  ; who,  the  set  day  being  come,  rose  all  at  once,  and 
at  the  very  self-same  time  fell  upon  them,  and  proceeded 
to  ransack  the  cities  ; so  that  in  one  hour  a hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  persons  were  made  slaves,  and  three- 
score and  ten  cities  sacked.  Yet  what  was  given  to  each 
soldier,  out  of  so  vast  a destruction  and  utter  ruin,  amounted 
to  no  more  than  eleven  drachmas;  so  that  men  could  only 
shudder  at  the  issue  of  a war,  where  the  wealth  of  a whole 
nation  thus  divided,  turned  to  so  little  advantage  and  profit  to 
each  particular  man. 

When  ^milius  had  done  this, — an  action  perfectly  con- 
trary to  his  gentle  and  mild  nature, — he  went  down  to  Oricus, 
where  he  embarked  his  army  for  Italy.  He  sailed  up  the 
river  Tiber  in  the  king’s  galley,  that  had  sixteen  banks  of  oars, 
and  was  richly  adorned  with  captured  arms  and  with  cloths  of 
purple  and  scarlet ; so  that,  the  vessel  rowing  slowly  against 
the  stream,  the  Romans  that  crowded  on  the  shore  to  meei 
him  had  a foretaste  of  his  following  triumph.  But  the  soldiers, 
wlio  had  cast  a covetous  eye  on  the  treasures  of  Perseus,  when 
they  did  not  obtain  as  much  as  they  thought  they  deserved, 
were  secretly  enraged  and  angry  with  ^milius  for  this,  but 
openly  complained  that  he  had  been  a severe  and  tyrannical 
commander  over  then  ; nor  were  they  ready  to  show  their  de- 
sire of  his  triumph.  When  Servius  Galba,  who  was  ^milius’* 

28 


434 


^EMILIUS  PAULUS. 


enemy,  though  he  commanded  as  tribune  under  him,  under 
stood  this,  he  had  the  boldness  plainly  to  affirm  that  a triumph 
was  not  to  be  allowed  him  ; and  sowed  various  calumnies 
amongst  the  soldiers,  which  yet  further  increased  their  ill-will. 
Nay  more  he  desired  the  tribunes  of  the  people,  because  the 
four  hours  that  were  remaining  of  the  day  could  not  suffice 
for  the  accusation,  to  let  him  put  it  off  till  another.  But  when 
the  tribunes  commanded  him  to  speak  then,  if  he  had  anything 
to  say,  he  began  a long  oration,  filled  with  all  manner  of  re- 
proaches, in  which  he  spent  the  remaing  part  of  the  time,  and 
the  tribunes,  when  it  was  dark,  dismissed  the  assembly.  The 
soldiers  growing  more  vehement  on  this,  thronged  all  to  Galba, 
and  entering  into  a conspiracy,  early  in  the  morning  beset  the 
Capitol,  where  the  tribunes  had  appointed  the  following  assem.- 
bly  to  be  held. 

As  soon  as  it  was  day,  it  was  put  to  the  vote,  and  the  first 
ti'ibe  was  proceeding  to  refuse  the  triumph ; and  the  news 
spread  amongst  the  people  and  to  the  senate.  The  people 
were  indeed  much  grieved  that  ^milius  should  meet  with  such 
ignominy  ; but  this  was  only  in  words,  which  had  no  effect. 
The  chief  of  the  senate  exclaimed  against  it  as  a base  action, 
and  excited  one  another  to  repress  the  boldness  and  insolence 
of  the  soldiers,  which  would  ere  long  become  altogether 
ungovernable  and  violent,  were  they  now  permitted  to  deprive 
j^Emilius  of  his  triumph.  Forcing  a passage  through  the 
crowd,  they  came  up  in  great  numbers,  and  desired  the  trib- 
unes to  defer  polling,  till  they  had  spoken  what  they  had  to 
say  to  the  people.  All  things  thus  suspended,  and  silence 
l)eing  made,  Marcus  Servilius  stood  up,  a man  of  consular 
dignity,  and  who  had  killed  tv/enty-three  of  his  enemies  that 
had  challenged  him  in  single  combat.  It  is  now  more  than 
ever,’’  said  he,  clear  to  my  mind  how  great  a commander 
our  ^milius  Paulus  is,  when  I see  he  was  able  to  perform  such 
famous  and  great  exploits  with  an  army  so  full  of  sedition  and 
baseness ; nor  can  I sufficiently  wonder,  that  a people  that 
seemed  to  glory  in  the  triumphs  over  Illyrians  and  Ligurians, 
should  now  through  envy  refuse  to  see  the  Macedonian  king 
led  alive,  and  all  the  glory  of  Philip  and  Alexander,  in  captiv- 
ity to  the  Roman  power.  For  is  it  not  a strange  thing  for 
you,  who  upon  a slight  rumor  of  victory  that  came  by  chance 
into  the  city,  did  offer  sacrifices  and  put  up  your  requests 
unto  the  gods  that  you  might  see  the  report  verified,  now, 
when  the  general  is  returned  with  an  undoubted  conquest,  to 
defraud  the  gods  of  honor,  and  yourselves  of  joy,  as  if  you 


iEMILIUS  PAULUS. 


435 


feared  to  behold  the  greatness  of  his  warlike  deed,  or  were 
resolved  to  spare  your  enemy  ? And  of  the  two,  much  better 
were  it  to  put  a stop  to  the  triumph,  out  of  pity  to  him,  than 
out  of  envy  to  your  general ; yet  to  such  a height  of  power  is 
malice  arrived  amongst  you,  that  a man  without  one  scar  to 
show  on  his  skin,  that  is  smooth  and  sleek  with  ease  and 
home-keeping  habits,  will  undertake  to  define  the  office  and 
duties  of  a general  before  us,  who  with  our  own  wounds  have 
been  taught  how  to  judge  of  the  valor  or  the  cowardice  of 
commanders/’  And,  at  the  same  time,  putting  aside  his  gar- 
ment, he  showed  an  infinite  number  of  scars  upon  his  breast, 
and,  turning  about,  he  exposed  some  parts  of  his  person 
which  it  is  usual  to  conceal ; and,  addressing  Galba,  said  : 
“ You  deride  me  for  these,  in  which  I glory  before  my  fellow- 
citizens,  for  it  is  in  their  service,  in  which  I have  ridden  night 
and  day,  that  I received  them  ; but  go  collect  the  votes,  whilst 
I follow  after,  and  note  the  base  and  ungrateful,  and  such  as 
choose  rather  to  be  flattered  and  courted  than  commanded  by 
their  general/’  It  is  said,  this  speech  so  stopped  the  soldiers’ 
mouths,  and  altered  their  minds,  that  all  the  tribes  decreed  a 
triumph  for  ^milius  ; which  was  performed  after  this  man- 
ner. 

The  people  erected  scaffolds  in  the  Forum,  in  the  circuses, 
as  they  call  their  buildings  for  horse-races,  and  in  all  other 
parts  of  the  city  where  they  could  best  behold  the  show.  The 
spectators  were  clad  in  white  garments  ; all  the  temples  were 
open,  and  full  of  garlands  and  perfumes ; the  ways  were 
cleared  and  kept  open  by  numerous  officers,  who  drove  back 
all  who  crowded  into  or  ran  across  the  main  avenue.  This 
triumph  lasted  three  days.  On  the  first,  which  was  scarcely 
long  enough  for  the  sight,  were  to  be  seen  the  statues, 
pictures,  and  colossal  images,  which  were  taken  from  the 
enemy,  drawn  upon  two  hundred  and  fifty  chariots.  On  the 
second,  was  carried  in  a great  many  wagons  the  finest  and 
richest  armor  of  the  Macedonians,  both  of  brass  and  steel,  all 
newly  polished  and  glittering  ; the  pieces  of  which  were  piled 
up  and  arranged  purposely  with  the  greatest  art,  so  as  to  seem 
to  be  tumbled  in  heaps  carelessly  and  by  chance  : helmets 
were  thrown  upon  shields,  coats  of  mail  upon  greaves  ; Cretan 
targets,  and  Thracian  bucklers  and  quivers  of  arrows,  lay 
huddled  amongst  horses’  bits,  and  through  these  there  ap- 
peared the  points  of  naked  swords,  intermixed  with  long 
Macedonian  sarissas.  All  these  arms  were  fastened  together 
with  just  so  much  looseness  that  they  struck  against  one 


436 


vEMlLIUS  PAULUS. 


another  as  they  were  drawn  along,  and  made  a harsh  and 
alarming  noise,  so  that,  even  as  spoils  of  a conquered  enemy, 
they  could  not  be  beheld  without  dread.  After  these  wagons 
loaded  with  armor,  there  followed  three  thousand  men  who 
carried  the  silver  that  was  coined,  in  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
vessels,  each  of  which  weighed  three  talents,  and  was  carried 
by  four  men.  Others  brought  silver  bowls  and  goblets  and 
cups,  all  disposed  in  such  order  as  to  make  the  best  show, 
and  all  curious  as  well  for  their  size  as  the  solidity  of  their 
embossed  work. 

On  the  third  day,  early  in  the  morning,  • first  came  the 
trumpeters,  who  did  not  sound  as  they  were  wont  in  a pro- 
cession or  solemn  entry,  but  such  a charge  as  the  Romans  use 
when  they  encourage  the  soldiers  to  fight.  Next  followed 
young  men  wearing  frocks  with  ornamented  borders,  who  led 
to  the  sacrifice  a hundred  and  twenty  stalled  oxen,  with  their 
horns  gilded,  and  their  heads  adorned  with  ribbons  and  gar- 
lands ; and  with  these  were  boys  that  carried  basins  for  liba- 
tion, of  silver  and  gold.  After  this  was  brought  the  gold  coin, 
which  was  divided  into  vessels  that  weighed  three  talents, 
like  those  that  contained  the  silver  ; they  were  in  number 
seventy-seven.  These  were  followed  by  those  that  brought 
the  consecrated  bowl  which  ^milius  had  caused  to  be  made, 
that  weighed  ten  talents,  and  was  set  with  precious  stones. 
Then  were  exposed  to  view  the  cups  of  Antigonus  and  Seleu- 
cuse,  and  those  of  the  Thericlean  make,  and  all  the  gold 
plate  that  was  used  at  Perseus’  table.  Next  to  these  came 
Perseus’  chariot,  in  which  his  armor  was  placed,  and  on  that 
his  diadem.  And,  after  a little  intermission,  the  king’s  chil- 
dren were  led  captives,  and  with  them  a train  of  their  attend- 
ants, masters,  and  teachers,  all  shedding  tears,  and  stretching 
out  hands  to  the  spectators,  and  making  the  children  them- 
selves also  beg  and  entreat  their  compassion.  There  were 
two  sons  and  a daughter,  whose  tender  age  made  them  but 
little  sensible  of  the  greatness  of  their  misery,  which  very 
insensibility  of  their  condition  rendered  it  the  more  deplora- 
ble ; insomuch  that  Perseus  himself  was  scarcely  regarded  as 
he  went  along,  whilst  pity  fixed  the  eyes  of  the  Romans  upon 
the  infants  ; and  many  of  them  could  not  forbear  tears,  and 
all  beheld  the  sight  with  a mixture  of  sorrow  and  pleasure, 
until  the  children  were  passed. 

After  his  children  and  their  attendants  came  Perseus  him- 
self, clad  all  in’black,  and  wearing  the  boots  of  his  country, 
and  looking  like  one  altogether  stunned  and  deprived  of  lea- 


iEMILIUS  PAULUS. 


43? 


son,  through  the  greatness  of  his  misfortunes.  Next  followed 
a great  company  of  his  friends  and  familiars,  whose  counte- 
nances were  disfigured  with  grief,  and  who  let  the  spectators 
see,  by  their  tears  and  their  continual  looking  upon  Perseus, 
that  it  was  his  fortune  they  so  much  lamented,  and  that  they 
were  regardless  of  their  own.  Perseus  sent  to  ^milius  to 
entreat  that  he  might  not  be  led  in  pomp,  but  be  left  out  of 
the  triumph  ; who,  deriding,  as  was  but  just,  his  cowardice 
and  fondness  of  life,  sent  him  this  answer,  that  as  for  that, 
it  had  been  before,  and  was  now,  in  his  own  power  ; giving 
him  to  understand  that  the  disgrace  could  be  avoided  by 
death  ; which  the  faint-hearted  man  not  having  the  spirit  for, 
and  made  effeminate  by  I know  not  what  hopes,  allowed  him- 
self to  appear  as  a part  of  his  own  spoils.  After  these  were 
carried  four  hundred  crowns,  all  made  of  gold,  sent  from  the 
cities  by  their  respective  deputations  to  ^milius,  in  honor  of 
his  victory.  Then  he  himself  came,  seated  on  a chariot  mag- 
nificently adorned  (a  man  well  worthy  to  be  looked  at,  even 
without  these  ensigns  of  power),  dressed  in  a robe  of  purple, 
interwoven  with  gold,  and  holding  a laurel  branch  in  his  right 
hand.  All  the  army,  in  like  manner,  with  boughs  of  laurel  in 
their  hands,  divided  into  their  bands  and  companies,  followed 
the  chariot  of  their  commander  ; some  singing  verses,  accord- 
ing to  the  usual  custom,  mingled  with  raillery ; others,  songs 
of  triumph,  and  the  praise  of  ^milius’s  deeds  ; who,  indeed, 
was  admired  and  accounted  happy  by  all  men,  and  unenvied 
by  every  one  that  was  good  ; except  so  far  as  it  seems  the 
province  of  some  god  to  lessen  that  happiness  which  is  too 
great  and  inordinate,  and  so  to  mingle  the  affairs  of  human 
life  that  no  one  should  be  entirely  free  and  exempt  from  ca- 
lamities ; but,  as  we  read  in  Homer,  that  those  should  think 
themselves  truly  blessed  to  whom  fortune  has  given  an  equal 
share  of  good  and  evil. 

HZinilius  had  four  sons,  of  whom  Scipio  and  Fabius,  as  is 
already  related,  were  adopted  into  other  families  ; the  other 
two,  whom  he  had  by  a second  wife,  and  who  were  yet  but 
young,  he  brought  up  in  his  own  house.  One  of  these  died 
at  fourteen  3"ears  of  age,  five  days  before  his  father’s  triumph  , 
the  other  at  twelve,  three  da^^s  after  ; so  that  there  was  no 
Roman  without  a deep  sense  of  his  suffering,  and  who  did  not 
shudder  at  the  cruelty  of  fortune,  that  had  not  scrupled  to 
bring  so  much  sorrow  into  a house  replenished  with  happiness, 
rejoicing,  and  sacrifices,  and  to  intermingle  tears  and  laments 
with  songs  of  victory  and  triumph. 


43^ 


iEMILIUS  PAULUS. 


u^milius,  however,  reasoning  justly  that  courage  and  reso- 
lution was  net  merely  to  resist  armour  and  spears,  but  all  the 
shocks  of  ill  fortune,  so  met  and  so  adapted  himself  to  these 
mingled  and  contrasting  circumstances,  as  to  outbalance  the 
evil  with  the  good,  and  his  private  concerns  with  those  of  the 
public ; and  thus  did  not  allow  any  thing  either  to  take  away 
from  the  grandeur,  or  sully  the  dignity  of  his  victory.  For  as 
soon  as  he  had  buried  the  first  of  his  sons  (as  we  have  already 
said),  he  triumphed  ; and  the  second  dying  almost  as  soon 
as  his  triumph  was  over,  he  gathered  together  an  assembly  of 
the  people,  and  made  an  oration  to  them,  not  like  a man  that 
stood  in  need  of  comfort  from  others,  but  one  that  undertook 
to  support  his  fellow-citizens  in  their  grief  for  the  sufferings 
he  himself  underwent. 

“ lie  said,  ‘‘  who  never  yet  feared  any  thing  that  was 
human,  have,  amongst  such  as  were  divine,  always  had  a dread 
of  fortune  as  faithless  and  inconstant ; and,  for  the  very  rea- 
son that  in  this  war  she  had  been  as  a favorable  gale  in  all 
my  affairs,  I still  expected  some  change  and  reflux  of  things. 
In  one  day  I passed  the  Ionian  sea,  and  reached  Corcyra 
from  Brundisium  ; thence  in  five  more  I sacrificed  at  Delphi, 
and  in  other  five  days  came  to  my  forces  in  Macedonia, 
where,  after  I had  finished  the  usual  sacrifices  for  the.  purify- 
ing of  the  army,  I entered  on  my  duties,  and,  in  the  space  of 
fifteen  days,  put  an  honorable  period  to  the  war.  Still  retain- 
ing a jealousy  of  fortune,  even  from  the  smooth  current  of  my 
affairs,  and  seeing  myself  secure  and  free  from  the  danger  of 
any  enemy,  I chiefly  dreaded  the  change  of  the  goddess  at 
sea,  whilst  conveying  home  my  victorious  army,  vast  spoils, 
and  a captive  king.  Nay,  indeed,  after  I was  returned  to  you 
safe,  and  saw  the  city  full  of  joy,  congratulating,  and  sacrifices, 
yet  still  I distrusted,  well  knowing  that  fortune  never  conferred 
any  great  benefits  that  were  unmixed  and  unattended  with 
probabilities  of  reverse.  Nor  could  any  mind,  that  was  still 
as  it  were  in  labor,  and  always  foreseeing  something  to  befall 
this  city,  free  itself  from  this  fear,  until  this  great  misfortime 
befell  me  in  my  own  family,  and  till,  in  the  midst  of  those  days 
set  apart  for  triumph,  I carried  two  of  the  best  of  sons,  my 
only  destined  successors,  one  after  another  to  their  funerals. 
Now,  therefore,  I am  myself  safe  from  danger,  at  least  as  to 
what  was  my  greatest  care ; and  I trust  and  am  verily  per- 
suaded that  for  the  time  to  come  Fortune  will  prove  constant 
and  harmless  unto  you ; since  she  has  sufficiently  wreaked  her 
jealousy  at  our  great  successes  on  me  and  mine,  and  has  made 


iEMILIUS  PAULUS. 


439 


the  conqueror  as  marked  an  example  of  human  instability  as 
the  captive  whom  he  led  in  triumph,  with  this  only  difference, 
that  Perseus,  though  conquered,  does  yet  enjoy  his  children, 
while  the  conqueror,  ^milius,  is  deprived  of  his/’  This  was 
the  generous  and  magnanimous  oration  ^^^milius  is  said  to 
have  spoken  to  the  people,  from  a heart  truly  sincere  and  free 
from  all  artifice. 

Although  he  very  much  pitied  the  condition  of  PerseuSj 
and  studied  to  befriend  him  in  what  he  was  able,  yet  he  coula 
procure  no  other  favor,  than  his  removal  from  the  common 
prison,  the  Career^  into  a more  cleanly  and  humane  place  of 
security,  where,  whilst  he  was  guarded,  it  is  said,  he  starved 
himself  to  death.  Others  state  his  death  to  be  of  the  strang- 
est and  most  unusual  character  : that  the  soldiers  who  were 
his  guard,  having  conceived  a spite  and  hatred  against  him  for 
some  reason,  and  finding  no  other  w^ay  to  grieve  and  afflict 
him,  kept  him  from  sleep,  took  pains  to  disturb  him  when  he 
was  disposed  to  rest,  and  found  out  contrivances  to  keep  him 
continually  awake,  by  which  means  at  length  he  was  utterly 
worn  out,  and  expired.  Two  of  his  children,  also,  died  soon 
after  him  ; the  third,  who  was  named  Alexander,  they  say 
proved  an  exquisite  artist  in  turning  and  graving  small  figures 
and  learned  so  perfectly  to  speak  and  write  the  Roman  lan- 
guage, that  he  became  clerk  to  the  magistrates,  and  behaved 
himself  in  his  office  with  great  skill  and  conduct. 

They  ascribe  to  ^milius’s  conquest  of  Macedonia,  this 
most  acceptable  benefit  to  the  people,  that  he  brought  so  vast 
a quantity  of  money  into  the  public  treasury,  that  they  never 
paid  any  taxes,  until  Hirtius  and  Pansa  were  consuls,  which 
was  in  the  first  war  between  Antony  and  Caesar.  I'his  also 
was  peculiar  and  remarkable  in  ^milius,  that  though  he  was 
extremely  beloved  and  honored  by  the  people,  yet  he  always 
sided  with  the  nobles  ; nor  would  he  either  say  or  do  any 
thing  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the  multitude,  but  constantly 
adhered  to  the  nobility,  in  all  political  matters,  which  in  after- 
times was  cast  in  Scipio  Africanus’s  teeth  by  Appius  ; these 
two  being  in  their  time  the  most  considerable  men  in  the  city, 
and  standing  in  competition  for  the  office  of  censor.  The  one 
had  on  his  side  the  nobles  and  the  senate,  to  which  party  the 
Appii  were  always  attached  ; the  other,  although  his  own  in- 
terest was  great,  yet  made  use  of  the  favor  and  love  of  the 
people.  When,  therefore,  Appius  saw  Scipio  come  to  the 
market-place,  surrounded  with  men  of  mean  rank,  and  such 
as  were  but  newly  made  free,  yet  were  very  fit  to  manage  a 


440 


i^MILlUS  PAULUS. 


debate,  to  gather  together  the  rabble,  and  to  carry  whatsoever 
they  designed  by  importunity  and  noise,  crying  out  with  a 
loud  voice  : Groan  now,”  said  he,  O ^milius  Paulus,  if 
you  have  knowledge  in  your  grave  of  what  is  done  above,  that 
your  son  aspires  to  be  censor,  by  the  help  of  ^milius,  the 
common  crier,  and  Licinius  Philonicus.”  Scipio  always 
had  the  good  will  of  the  people,  because  he  was  constantly 
heaping  favors  on  them  ; but  ^milius,  although  he  still  took 
part  with  the  nobles,  yet  was  as  much  the  people’s  favorite  as 
those  who  most  sought  popularity  and  used  every  art  to  obtain 
it.  This  they  made  manifest,  when,  amongst  other  digni- 
ties, they  thought  him  worthy  of  the  office  of  censor,  a trust  ac- 
counted most  sacred  and  of  great  authority,  as  well  in  other 
things,  as  in  the  strict  examination  into  men’s  lives.  For  the 
censors  had  power  to  expel  a senator,  and  enroll  whom  they 
judged  most  fit  in  his  room,  and  to  disgrace  such  young  men 
as  lived  licentiously,  by  taking  away  their  horses.  Besides 
this,  they  were  to  value  and  assess  each  man’s  estate,  and 
register  the  number  of  the  people.  There  were  numbered  by 
-Dmilius,  347,452  men.  He  declared  Marcus  ^Finilius  Lepi- 
dus  first  senator,  who  had  already  four  times  held  that  honor, 
and  he  removed  from  their  office  three  of  the  senators  of  the 
least  note.  The  same  moderation  he  and  his  fellow  censor, 
Marcius  Philippus,  used  at  the  muster  of  the  knights. 

Whilst  he  was  thus  busy  about  many  and  weighty  affairs, 
he  fell  sick  of  a disease,  which  at  first  seemed  hazardous ; and 
although  after  a while  it  proved  without  danger,  yet  was 
troublesome  and  difficult  to  be  cured  ; so  that  by  the  advice 
of  his  physicians  he  sailed  to  Velia,  in  South  Italy,  and  there 
dwelt  a long  time  near  the  sea,  where  he  enjoyed  all  possible 
quietness.  The  Romans,  in  the  meanwhile,  longed  for  his  re- 
turn, and  oftentimes  by  their  expressions  in  the  theatres,  gave 
public  testimony  of  their  great  desire  and  impatience  to  see 
him.  When,  therefore,  the  time  drew  nigh  that  a solemn  sac- 
rifice was  of  necessity  to  be  offered,  and  he  found,  as  he 
thought,  his  body  strong  enough,  he  came  back  again  to  Rome, 
and  there  performed  the  holy  rites  with  the  rest  of  the  priests, 
the  people  in  the  mean  time  crowding  about  him,  and  con- 
gratulating his  return.  The  next  day  he  sacrificed  again  to 
the  gods  for  his  recovery  ; and,  having  finished  the  sacrifice, 
returned  to  his  house  and  sat  down  to  dinner,  when,  all  on  a 
sudden  and  when  no  change  was  expected,  he  fell  into  a fit  of 
delirium,  and,  being  quite  deprived  of  his  senses,  the  third 
day  after  ended  a life,  in  which  he  had  wanted  no  manner  of 


TIMOLEON  AND  ^MILIUS  PAULUS. 


441 


thing  which  is  thought  to  conduce  to  happiness.  Nay,  his 
very  funeral  pomp  had  something  in  it  remarkable  and  to  be 
admired,  and  his  virtue  was  graced  with  the  most  solemn  and 
happy  rites  at  his  burial ; consisting,  not  in  gold  and  ivory, 
or  in  the  usual  sumptuousness  and  splendor  of  such  prepara- 
tions, but  in  the  good-will,  honor,  and  love,  not  only  of  his 
fellow  citizens,  but  of  his  enemies  themselves.  For  as  many 
Spaniards,  Ligurians,  and  Macedonians,  as  happened  to  be 
present  at  the  solemnity,  that  were  young  and  of  vigorous 
bodies,  took  up  the  bier  and  carried  it ; whilst  the  more  aged 
followed,  calling  ^milius  the  benefactor  and  preserver  of 
their  countries.  For  not  only  at  the  time  of  his  conquest 
had  he  acted  to  all  with  kindness  and  clemency,  but,  through 
the  whole  course  of  his  life,  he  continued  to  do  them  good 
and  look  after  their  concerns,  as  if  they  had  been  his  famil- 
iars and  relations.  They  report,  that  the  whole  of  his  estate 
scarce  amounted  to  three  hundred  and  seventy  thousand 
drachmas  ; to  which  he  left  his  two  sons  co-heirs ; but  Scipio, 
who  was  the  youngest,  being  adopted  into  the  more  wealthy 
family  of  Africanus,  gave  it  all  to  his  brother.  Such  are  said 
to  have  been  the  life  and  manners  of  ^milius. 


COMPARISON  OF  TIMOLEON 
WITH  ^MILIUS  PAULUS. 

Such  being  the  story  of  these  two  great  men’s  lives, 
without  doubt  in  the  comparison  very  little  difference  will  be 
found  between  them.  They  made  war  with  two  powerful 
enemies  : the  one  against  the  Macedonians,  and  the  other  with 
the  Carthaginians ; and  the  success  was  in  both  cases  glori- 
ous. One  conquered  Macedon  from  the  seventh  succeeding 
heir  of  Antigonus  ; the  other  freed  Sicily  from  usurping  ty- 
rants, and  restored  the  island  to  its  former  liberty.  Unless, 
inueed,  it  be  made  a point  of  ^milius’s  side,  that  he  engaged 
with  Perseus  when  his  forces  were  entire,  and  composed  of 
men  that  had  often  successfully  fought  with  the  Romans  ; 
whereas,  Timoleon  found  Dionysius  in  a despairing  condi- 
tion, his  affairs  being  reduced  to  the  last  extremity : or,  on 
the  contrary,  it  be  urged  in  favor  of  Timoleon,  that  he  van- 
quished several  tyrants,  and  a powerful  Carthaginian  army, 
with  an  inconsiderable  number  of  men  gathered  together 


442  TIMOLEON  AND  .EMILIUS  PAULUS. 

from  all  parts,  not  with  such  an  army  as  ^milius  had,  of  well 
disciplined  soldiers,  experienced  in  war,  and  accustomed  to 
obey ; but  with  such  as  through  the  hopes  of  gain  restored  to 
him,  unskilled  in  fighting  and  ungovernable.  And  when 
actions  are  equally  glorious,  and  the  means  to  compass  them 
unequal,  the  greatest  esteem  is  certainly  due  to  that  general 
who  conquers  with  the  smaller  power. 

Both  have  the  reputation  of  having  behaved  themselves 
with  an  uncorrupted  integrity,  in  all  the  affairs  thay  managed  ; 
but  ^milius  had  the  advantage  of  being,  from  his  infancy, 
by  the  laws  and  customs  of  his  country  brought  up  to  the 
proper  management  of  public  affairs,  which  Timoleon  brought 
himself  to  by  his  own  efforts.  And  this  is  plain  ; for  at  that 
time  all  the  Romans  were  uniformly  orderly  and  obedient, 
respectful  to  the  laws  and  to  their  fellow-citizens : whereas  it 
is  remarkable,  that  not  one  of  the  Greek  gererals  commanding 
in  Sicily,  could  keep  himself  uncorrupted,  except  Dion,  and 
of  him  many  entertained  a jealousy  that  he  would  establish  a 
monarchy  there,  after  the  Lacedaemonian  manner.  Timoeus 
writes,  that  the  Syracusans  sent  even  Gylippus  home  dis- 
honorably, and  with  a reputation  lost  by  the  unsalable 
covetousness  he  displayed  when  he  commanded  the  army. 
And  numerous  historians  tell  us  of  the  wicked  and  perfidious 
acts  committed  by  Pharax  the  Spartan,  and  Callippus  the 
Athenian,  with  the  view  of  making  themselves  kings  of  Sicily. 
Yet  what  were  these  men,  and  what  strength  had  they,  to 
entertain  such  a thought  ? The  first  of  them  was  a follower 
of  Dionysius,  when  he  was  expelled  from  Syracuse,  and  the 
other  a hired  captain  of  foot  under  Dion,  and  came  into 
Sicily  with  him.  But  Timoleon,  at  the  request  and  prayers  of 
the  Syracusans,  was  sent  to  be  their  general,  and  had  no 
need  to  seek  for  power,  but  had  a perfect  title,  founded  on 
their  own  offers,  to  hold  it ; and  yet  no  sooner  had  he  freed 
Sicily  from  her  oppressors,  but  he  willingly  surrendered  it. 

It  is  truly  worthy  our  admiration  in  ^milius,  that  though 
he  conquered  so  great  and  so  rich  a realm  as  that  of  Mace- 
don,  yet  he  would  not  touch,  nor  see  any  of  the  money,  nor 
did  he  advantage  himself  one  farthing  by  it,  though  he  was 
very  generous  of  his  own  to  others.  I would  not  intend  any 
reflection  on  Timoleon,  for  accepting  of  a house  and  hand- 
some estate  in  the  country,  which  the  Syracusans  presented 
him  with  ; there  is  no  dishonor  in  accepting  ; but  yet  there  is 
greater  glory  in  a refusal,  and  the  supremest  virtue  is 
shown  in  not  wanting  what  it  might  fairly  take.  And  as  that 


PELOPIDAS. 


443 


body  is,  without  doubt,  the  most  strong  and  healthful,  which 
can  the  easiest  support  extreme  cold  and  excessive  heat  in 
the  chai>ge  of  seasons,  and  that  the  most  firm  and  collected 
mind  which  is  not  puffed  up  with  prosperity,  nor  dejected 
with  adversity  ; so  the  virtue  of  ^milius  was  eminently  seen 
in  his  countenance  and  behavior  continuing  as  noble  and  lofty 
'a[)on  the  loss  of  two  dear  sons,  as  w^hen  he  achieved  his 
greatest  victories  and  triumphs.  But  Timoleon,  after  he  had 
justly  punished  his  brother,  a truly  heroic  action,  let  his  rea- 
son yield  to  a causeless  sorrow,  and  humiliated  with  grief  and 
remorse,  forbore  for  twenty  years  to  appear  in  any  public 
place,  or  meddle  with  any  affairs  of  the  commonwealth.  It 
is  truly  very  commendable  to  abhor  and  shun  the  doing  any 
base  action  ; but  to  stand  in  fear  of  every  kind  of  censure  or 
disrepute,  may  argue  a gentle  and  open-hearted,  but  not  an 
heroic  temper. 


PELOPIDAS. 

Cato  Major,  hearing  some  commend  one  that  was  rash, 
and  inconsiderately  daring  in  a battle,  said,  “ There  is  a dif- 
ference between  a man’s  prizing  valor  at  a great  rate,  and 
valuing  life  at  little ; ” a very  just  remark.  Antigonus,  we 
know,  at  least,  had  a soldier,  a venturous  fellow,  but  of 
wretched  health  and  constitution  ; the  reason  of  whose  ill 
.ook  he  took  the  trouble  to  inquire  into  ; and,  on  under- 
standing from  him  that  it  was  a disease,  commanded  his  physi- 
cians to  employ  their  utmost  skill,  and  if  possible  recover 
him  ; which  brave  hero,  when  once  cured,  never  afterwards 
sought  danger  or  showed  himself  venturous  in  battle ; and, 
when  Antigonus  w^ondered  and  upbraided  him  with  his  change, 
made  no  secret  of  the  reason,  and  said,  Sir,  you  are  the 
cause  of  my  cowardice,  by  freeing  me  from  those  miseries 
which  made  me  care  little  for  life.”  With  the  same  feeling, 
the  Sybarite  seems  to  have  said  of  the  Spartans,  that  it  was 
no  commendable  thing  in  them  to  be  so  ready  to  die  in  the 
wars,  since  by  that  they  were  freed  from  such  hard  labor,  and 
miserable  living,  in  truth,  the  Sybarites,  a soft  and  dissolute 
people,  might  well  imagine  they  hated  life,  because  in  their 
eager  pursuit  of  virtue  and  glory,  they  were  not  afraid  to  die : 
but,  in  fact,  the  Lacedaemonians  found  their  virtue  secured 


^44 


PELOPIDAS. 


them  happiness  alike  in  living  or  in  dying ; as  we  see  "n  the 
epitaph  that  says  : — 

They  died,  but  not  as  lavish  of  their  blood, 

Or  thinking  death  itself  was  simply  good  ; 

Their  wishes  neither  were  to  live  nor  die, 

But  to  do  both  alike  commendably. 

An  endeavor  to  avoid  death  is  not  blamable,  if  we  do  not 
basely  desire  to  live ; nor  a willingness  to  die  good  and  virtu* 
ous,  if  it  proceeds  from  a contempt  of  life.  And  therefore 
Homer  always  takes  care  to  bring  his  bravest  and  most  daring 
heroes  well  armed  into  battle;  and  the  Greek  lawgivers  ^pun- 
ished those  that  threw  away  their  shields,  but  not  him  that 
lost  his  sword  or  spear;  intimating  that  self-defence  is  more 
a man’s  business  then  offence.  This  is  especially  true  of  a 
governor  of  a city,  or  a general ; for  if,  as  Iphicrates  divides 
it  out,  the  light-armed  are  the  hands  ; the  horse  the  feet ; the 
infantry  the  breast ; and  the  general  the  head ; he,  when  he 
puts  himself  upon  danger,  not  only  ventures  his  own  person, 
but  all  those  whose  safety  depends  on  his ; and  so  on  the 
contrary.  Callicratidas,  therefore,  though  otherwise  a great 
man,  was  wrong  in  his  answer  to  the  augur  who  advised  him, 
the  sacrifice  being  unlucky,  to  be  careful  of  his  life  ; ‘‘  Sparta,’' 
said  he,  ‘‘will  not  miss  one  man.”  It  was  true,  Callicratidas, 
when  simply  serving  in  any  engagement  either  at  sea  or  land, 
was  but  a single  person,  but  as  a general,  he  united  in  his  life 
the  lives  of  all,  and  could  hardly  be  called  one,  when  his 
death  involved  the  ruin  of  so  many.  The  saying  of  old  An- 
tigonus  was  better,  who,  when  he  was  to  fight  at  Andros,  and 
one  told  him,  “ The  enemy’s  ships  are  more  than  ours ; ” 
replied,  “ For  how  many  then  wilt  thou  reckon  me?”  inti- 
mating that  a brave  and  experienced  commander  is  to  be 
highly  valued,  one  of  the  first  duties  of  whose  office  indeed  it 
is  to  save  him  on  whose  safety  depends  that  of  others.  And 
therefore  I applaud  Timotheus,  who,  when  Chares  showed  the 
wounds  he  had  received,  and  his  shield  pierced  Dy  a dart, 
told  him,  “Yet  how  ashamed  I was,  at  the  seige  of  Samos, 
when  a dart  fell  near  me,  for  exposing  myself,  more  like  a 
boy  than  like  a general  in  command  of  a large  army.”  In- 
deed, where  the  general’s  hazarding  himself  will  go  far  to 
decide  the  result,  there  he  must  fight  and  venture  his  person, 
and  not  mind  their  maxims,  who  would  have  a general  die, 
if  not  of^  at  least  in  old  age ; but  when  the  advantage  will  be 
but  small  if  he  gets  the  better,  and  the  loss  considerable  if 


PELOPIDAS. 


445 


lie  faLs,  who  then  would  desire,  at  the  risk  of  the  commander’s 
life,  a piece  of  success  which  a common  soldier  might  obtain  > 
This  I thought  fit  to  premise  before  the  lives  of  Pelopidas 
and  Marcellus,  who  were  both  great  men,  but  who  both  fell  by 
their  own  rashness.  For,  being  gallant  men,  and  having 
gained  their  respective  countries  great  glory  and  reputation 
by  their  conduct  in  war  against  terrible  enemies,  the  one,  as 
history  relates,  overthrowing  Hannibal,  who  was  till  then 
invincible  ; the  other,  in  a set  battle  beating  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians, then  supreme  both  at  sea  and  land ; they  ventured  at 
last  too  far,  and  were  heedlessly  prodigal  of  their  lives,  when 
there  was  the  greatest  need  of  men  and  commanders  such  as 
they.  And  this  agreement  in  their  characters  and  their 
dea-h5  is  the  reason  why  I compare  their  lives. 

Pelopidas,  the  son  of  Hippoclus,  was  descended,  as  like- 
wise Epaminondas  was,  from  an  honorable  family  in  Thebes  ; 
and,  being  brought  up  to  opulence,  hnd  having  a fair  estate 
left  him  whilst  he  was  young,  he  made  it  his  business  to  re- 
lieve the  good  and  deserving  amongst  the  poor,  that  he  might 
show  himself  lord  and  not  slave  of  his  estate.  For  amongst 
men,  as  Aristotle  observes,  some  are  too  narrow-minded  to 
use  their  wealth,  and  some  are  loose  and  abuse  it ; and  these 
live  perpetual  slaves  to  their  pleasures,  as  the  others  to 
their  gain.  Others  permitted  themselves  to  be  obliged  by 
Pelopidas,  and  thankfully  made  use  of  his  liberality  and  kind- 
ness ; but  amongst  all  his  friends,  he  could  never  persuade 
Epaminondas  to  be  a sharer  in  his  wealth.  He,  however, 
stepped  down  into  his  poverty,  and  took  pleasure  in  the  same 
poor  attire,  spare  diet,  unwearied  endurance  of  hardships,  and 
unshrinking  boldness  in  war  : like  Capaneus  in  Euripides, 
who  had 


Abundant  wealth  and  in  that  wealth  no  pride ; 

he  was  ashamed  any  one  should  think  that  he  spent  more 
upon  his  person  than  the  meanest  Theban.  Epaminondas 
made  his  familiar  and  hereditary  poverty  more  light  and 
easy,  by  his  philosophy  and  single  life ; but  Pelopidas  mar- 
ried a woman  of  good  family,  and  had  children ; yet  still 
th'nking  little  of  his  private  interests,  and  devoting  all  his 
time  to  the  public,  he  ruined  his  estate  : and,  when  his  friends 
admonished  and  told  him  how  necessary  that  money  which 
he  neglected  was:  “ Yes,’’  he  replied,  “ necessary  to  N. code- 
mus,”  pointing  to  a blind  cripple. 

Both  seemed  equally  fitted  by  nature  for  all  sorts  of  ex 


446 


PELOPIDAS. 


cellence  : but  bodily  exercises  chiefly  delighted  Pelopidas, 
learning  Epaminondas  ; and  the  one  spent  his  spare  hours  in 
hunting,  and  the  Palaestra,  the  other  in  hearing  lectures  ot 
philosophizing.  And,  amongst  a thousand  points  for  praise 
in  both,  the  judicious  esteem  nothing  equal  to  that  constant 
benevolence  and  friendship,  which  they  inviolably  preserved 
in  all  their  expeditions,  public  actions,  and  administration  of 
the  commonwealth.  For  if  any  one  looks  on  the  administra- 
tions of  Aristides  and  Themistocles,  of  Cimon  and  Pericles, 
of  Nicias  and  Alcibiades,  what  confusion,  what  envy,  what 
mutual  jealousy  appears  ? And  if  he  then  casts  his  eye  on 
the  kindness  and  reverence  that  Pelopidas  showed  Epami- 
nondas, he  must  needs  confess,  that  these  are  more  truly 
and  more  justly  styled  colleagues  in  government  and  com- 
manvi  than  the  others,  who  strove  rather  to  overcome  one  an- 
other than  their  enemies.  The  true  cause  of  this  was  their 
virtue  ; whence  it  came  that  they  did  not  make  their  actions 
aim  at  wealth  aud  glory,  an  endeavor  sure  to  lead  to  bitter 
and  contentious  jealousy;  but  both  from  the  beginning  being 
inflamed  with  a divine  desire  of  seeing  their  country  glonous 
by  their  exertions,  they  used  to  that  end  one  another's  excel- 
.ences  as  their  own.  Many,  indeed,  think  this  strict  and  en- 
tire affection  is  to  be  dated  from  the  battle  at  Mantinea, 
where  they  both  fought,  being  part  of  the  succors  that  were 
sent  from  Thebes  to  the  Lacedaemonians,  their  then  friends 
and  allies.  For,  being  placed  together  amongst  the  infantry, 
and  engaging  the  Arcadians,  when  the  Lacedaemonian  wing, 
in  which  they  fought,  gave  ground,  and  many  fled,  they  closed 
their  shields  together  and  resisted  the  assailants.  Pelopidas, 
having  received  seven  wounds  in  the  forepart  of  his  body, 
fell  upon  an  heap  of  slain  friends  and  enemies  ; but  Epami- 
nondas, though  he  thought  him  past  recovery,  advanced  to 
defend  his  arms  and  body,  and  singly  fought  a multitude,  re- 
solving rather  to  die  than  forsake  his  helpless  Pelopidas. 
And  now,  he  being  much  distressed,  being  wounded  in  the 
breast  by  a spear,  and  in  the  arm  by  a sword,  Agesipolis,  the 
king  of  the  Spartans,  came  to  his  succor  from  the  other  wirg, 
and  beyond  hope  delivered  both. 

After  this  the  Lacedaemonians  pretended  to  be  friends  to 
Thebes,  but  in  truth  looked  with  jealous  suspicions  on  the 
designs  and  power  of  the  city,  and  chiefly  hated  the  party  of 
Ismenias  and  Androclides,  in  which  Pelopidas  also  was  an 
associate,  as  tending  to  liberty,  and  the  advancement  of  the 
commonalty.  Therefore  Archias,  Leontidas,  and  Philip,  all 


PEI.OPIDAS. 


447 


rich  men,  and  of  oligarchical  principles,  and  immoderately 
ambitious,  urged  Plicebidas  the  Spartan,  as  he  was  on  his  way 
past  the  city  with  a considerable  force,  to  surprise  the  Cad- 
mea,  and,  banishing  the  contrary  faction,  to  establish  an  oli- 
garchy, and  by  that  means  subject  the  city  to  the  supremacy 
of  the  Spartans.  He,  accepting  the  proposal,  at  the  festival 
of  Ceres  unexpectedly  fell  on  the  Thebans,  and  made  himself 
master  of  the  citadel.  Ismenias  was  taken,  carried  to  Sparta, 
and  in  a short  time  murdered  ; but  Pelopidas,  Pherenicus,  An 
droclides,  and  many  more  that  fled  were  publicly  proclaimed 
outlaws.  Epaminondas  stayed  at  home,  being  not  much 
looked  after,  as  one  whom  philosophy  had  made  inactive,  and 
poverty  incapable. 

The  Lacedaemonians  cashiered  Phoebidas,  and  fined  him 
one  hundred  thousand  drachmas,  yet  still  kept  a garrison  in 
the  Cadmea  ; which  made  all  Greece  wonder  at  their  incon- 
sistency, since  they  punished  the  doer,  but  approved  the  deed. 
And  though  the  Thebans,  having  lost  their  polity,  and  being 
enslaved  by  Archias  and  Leontidas,  had  no  hopes  to  get  free 
from  this  tyranny,  which  they  saw  guarded  by  the  whole  mil- 
itary power  of  the  Spartans,  and  had  no  means  to  break  the 
yoke,  unless  these  could  be  deposed  from  their  command  of 
sea  and  land  ; yet  Leontidas  and  his  associates,  understand- 
ing the  exiles  lived  at  Athens  in  favor  with  the  people,  and 
with  honor  from  all  the  good  and  virtuous,  formed  secret  de- 
signs against  their  lives,  and,  suborning  some  unknown  fel- 
lows, despatched  Androclides,  but  were  not  successful  on  the 
rest-  Letters,  besides,  were  sent  from  Sparta  to  the  Atheni- 
ans, warning  them  neither  to  receive  nor  countenance  the  ex- 
iles but  expel  them  as  declared  common  enemies  of  the  con- 
federacy. But  the  Athenians,  from  their  natural  hereditary 
inclination  to  be  kind,  and  also  to  make  a grateful  return  to 
ihe  Thebans,  who  had  very  much  assisted  them  in  restoring 
Iheir  democracy,  and  had  publicly  enacted,  that  if  any  Athe- 
nian would  march  armed  through  Boeotia  against  the  tyrants, 
that  no  Boeotian  should  either  see  or  hear  it,  did  the  Thebans 
no  harm. 

Pelopidas,  though  one  of  the  youngest,  was  active  in  pri- 
vately exciting  each  single  exile  ; and  often  told  them  at 
iheir  meetings,  that  it  was  both  dishonorable  and  impious  to 
neglect  their  enslaved  and  engarrisoned  country,  and,  lazily 
contented  with,  their  own  lives  and  safety,  depended  on  the 
decree  of  the  Athenians,  and  through  fear  fawn  on  every 
smooth-tongued  orator  that  wtis  able  to  work  upon  the  pea 


PELOPIDAS. 


pie  : no,  they  must  venture  f/or  this  great  prize,  taking  Thras- 
ybulus’  bold  courage  for  example,  and  as  he  advanced  from 
Thebes  and  broke  the  power  of  the  Athenian  tyrants,  so  they 
should  march  from  Athens  and  free  Thebes.  When  by  this 
method  he  had  persuaded  them,  they  privately  despatched 
some  persons  to  those  friends  they  had  left  at  Thebes,  and 
acquainted  them  with  their  designs.  Their  plans  being  ap- 
proved, Charon,  a man  of  the  greatest  distinction,  offered 
his  house  for  their  reception  ; Phillidas  contrived  to  get  him- 
self made  secretary  to  Archias  and  Philip,  who  then  held  the 
office  of  polemarch  or  chief  captain  ; and  Epaminondas  had 
already  inflamed  the  youth.  For,  in  their  exercises,  he  had 
encouraged  them  to  challenge  and  wrestle  with  the  Spartans, 
and  again,  when  he  saw  them  puffed  up  with  victory  and  sua 
cess,  sharply  told  them,  that  it  was  the  greater  shame  to  be 
such  cowards  as  to  serve  those  whom  in  strength  they  so 
much  excelled. 

The  day  for  action  being  fixed,  it  was  agreed  upon  by  the 
exiles,  that  Pherenicus  with  the  rest  should  stay  at  the  Thri- 
asian  plain,  while  some  few  of  the  younger  men  tried  the  first 
danger,  by  endeavoring  to  get  into  the  city ; and,  if  they  were 
surprised  by  their  enemies,  the  others  should  take  care  to 
provide  for  their  children  and  parents.  Pelopidas  first  offered 
to  undertake  the  business ; then  Melon,  Damoclides,  and 
Theopompus,  men  of  noble  families,  who,  in  other  things 
loving  and  faithful  to  one  .another,  were  rivals  constant  only 
in  glory  and  courageous  exploits.  They  were  twelve  in  all, 
and  having  taken  leave  of  those  that  stayed  behind,  and  sent 
a messenger  to  Charon,  they  went  forward,  clad  in  short 
coats,  and  carrying  hounds  and  hunting  poles  with  them,  that 
they  might  be  taken  for  hunters  beating  over  the  fields,  and 
prevent  all  suspicion  in  those  that  met  them  on  the  way. 
When  the  messenger  came  to  Charon,  and  told  him  they  were 
approaching,  he  did  not  change  his  resolution  at  the  sight  of 
/danger,  but  being  a man  of  his  word,  offered  them  his  house. 
But  one  Hipposthenidas,  a man  of  no  ill  principles,  a lover 
of  his  country,  and  a friend  to  the  exiles,  but  not  of  as  much 
resolution  as  the  shortness  of  time  and  the  character  of  the 
action  required,  being  as  it  were  dizzied  at  the  greatness  of 
the  approaching  enterprise ; and  beginning  now  for  the  first 
time  to  comprehend  that  relying  on  that  weak  assistance 
which  could  be  expected  from  the  exiles,  they  were  undertak- 
ing no  less  a task  than  to  shake  the  government,  and  over- 
throw the  whole  power  of  Sparta  ; went  privately  to  his  houses 


PELOPIDAS. 


449 


and  sent  a friend  to  Melon  and  Pelopidas,  desiring  them  to 
forbear  for  the  present,  to  return  to  Athens  and  expect  a 
better  opportunity.  The  messenger's  name  was  Chlidon,  who, 
going  home  in  haste  and  bringing  out  his  horse,  asked  for  the 
bridle ; but,  his  wife  not  knowing  where  it  was,  and,  when  it 
could  not  be  found,  telling  him  she  had  lent  it  to  a friend, 
first  they  began  to  chide,  then  to  curse  one  another,  and  his 
wife  wished  the  journey  might  prove  ill  to  him,  and  those  that 
sent  him  ; insomuch  that  Chlidon’s  passion  made  him  waste 
a great  part  of  the  day  in  this  quarrelling,  and  then,  looking 
on  this  chance  as  an  omen,  he  laid  aside  all  thoughts  of  his 
journey,  and  went  away  to  some  other  business.  So  nearly 
had  these  great  and  glorious  designs,  even  in  their  very  birth, 
lost  their  opportunity. 

But  Pelopidas  and  his  companions,  dressing  themselves 
like  countrymen,  divided,  and,  whilst  it  was  yet  day,  entered 
at  different  quarters  of  the  city.  It  was,  besides,  a windy 
day,  and  now  it  just  began  to  snow,  which  contributed  much  to 
their  concealment,  because  most  people-  were  gone  in  doors 
to  avoid  the  weather.  Those,  however,  that  were  concerned 
in  the  design,  received  them  as  they  came,  and  conducted 
them  to  Charon’s  house,  where  the  exiles  and  others  made  up 
forty-eight  in  number.  The  tyrants’  affairs  stood  thus  : the 
secretary,  Phillidas,  as  I have  already  observed,  was  an  ac- 
complice in,  and  privy  to  all  the  contrivance  of  the  exiles,  and 
he  a while  before  had  invited  Archias,  with  others  to  an  en- 
tertainment on  that  day,  to  drink  freely,  and  meet  some  wo- 
men of  the  town,  on  purpose  that  when  they  were  drunk,  and 
given  up  to  their  pleasures,  he  might  deliver  them  over  to  the 
conspirators.  But  befere  Archias  was  thoroughly  heated, 
notice  was  given  him  that  the  exiles  were  privately  in  the 
town  ; a true  report  indeed,  but  obscure,  and  not  well  con- 
firmed ’ nevertheless,  though  Phillidas  endeavored  to  di- 
vert the  discourse,  Archias  sent  one  of  his  guards  to  Cha- 
ron, and  commanded  him  to  attend  immediately.  It  was 
evening,  and  Pelopidas  and  his  friends  with  him  in  the 
house  were  putting  themselves  into  a fit  posture  for  ac- 
tion, having  their  breast-plates  on  already,  and  their  swords 
girt:  but  at  the  sudden  knocking  at  the  door,  one  stepping 
forth  to  inquire  the  matter,  and  learning  from  the  officer  that 
Charon  was  sent  for  by  the  polemarch,  returned  in  great  con- 
fusion and  acquainted  those  within  ; and  immediately  con- 
jectured that  the  whole  plot  was  discovered,  and  they  should 
be  cut  in  pieces,  before  so  much  as  achieving  any  action  to  do 

29 


45^ 


PELOPIDAS. 


credit  to  their  bravery  : yet  all  agreed  that  Charon  should  obey, 
and  attend  the  polein arch,  to  prevent  suspicion.  Charon  was, 
indeed,  a man  of  courage  and  resolution  in  all  dangers,  yet  in 
this  case  he  was  extremely  concerned,  lest  any  should  suspect 
that  he  was  the  traitor  and  the  death  of  so  many  brave  citizens 
be  laid  on  him.  And,  therefore,  when  he  was  ready  to  depart, 
he  brought  his  son  out  of  the  women’s  apartment,  a little  boy 
as  yet,  but  one  of  the  best  looking  and  strongest  of  all  those 
of  his  age,  and  delivered  him  to  Pelopidas  with  these  words : 

If  you  find  me  a traitor,  treat  the  boy  as  an  enemy  without  any 
mercy.”  The  concern  which  Charon  showed,  drew  tears  from 
many  ; but  all  protested  vehemently  against  his  supposing  any 
one  of  them  so  mean-spirited  and  base,  at  the  appearance  of 
appoaching  danger,  as  to  suspect  or  blame  him  ; and  therefore, 
desired  him  not  to  involve  his  son,  but  to  set  him  out  of  harm’s 
way  : that  so  he,  perhaps,  escaping  the  tyrant's  power,  might 
live  to  revenge  the  city  and  his  friends.  Charon,  hower,  refused 
to  remove  him,  and  asked,  ‘‘  What  life,  what  safety  could  be 
more  honorable,  than  to  die  bravely  with  his  father,  and  such 
generous  companions  ? ” Thus,  imploring  the  protection  of  the 
gods,  and  saluting  and  encouraging  them  all,  he  departed,  con- 
sidering with  himself,  and  composing  his  voice  and  counte- 
nance, that  he  might  look  as  little  like  as  possible  to  what  in 
fact  he  really  was. 

When  he  was  come  to  the  door,  Archias  with  Phillidas 
came  out  to  him,  and  said,  “ I have  heard,  Charon,  that  there 
are  some  men  just  come,  and  lurking  in  the  town,  and  that  some 
of  the  citizens  are  resorting  to  theip.”  Charon  was  at  first  dis- 
turbed, but  asking,  “ Who  are  they  ? and  who  conceals  them  ? ” 
and  finding  Archias  did  not  thoroughly  understand  the  matter, 
he  concluded  that  none  of  those  privy  to  the  design  had  given 
this  information,  and  replied,  ‘‘  Do  not  disturb  yourselves  for  an 
empty  rumor : I will  look  into  it,  however,  for  no  report  in 
such  a case  is  to  be  neglected.”  Phillidas,  who  stood  by,  com- 
mended him,  and  leading  back  Archias,  got  him  deep  in  drink^ 
still  prolonging  the  entertainment  with  the  hopes  of  the  women’s 
company  at  last.  But  when  Charon  returned,  and  found  the 
men  prepared,  not  as  if  they  hoped  for  safety  and  success,  but  to 
die  bravely  and  with  the  slaughter  of  their  enemies,  he  told  Pe- 
lopidas and  his  friends  the  truth,  but  pretended  to  others  in  the 
house  t .iat  Archias  talked  to  him  about  something  else,  invent- 
ing a story  for  the  occasion.  This  storm  was  just  blowing 
over,  when  fortune  brought  another  ; for  a messenger  came 
with  a letter  from  one  Archias,  the  Hierophant  at  Athens,  tc 


PET^OPIDAS. 


451 


his  namesake  Archias,  who  was  his  friend  and  guest.  This 
did  not  merely  contain  a vague  conjectural  suspicion,  but,  as 
it  appeared  afterwards,  disclosed  every  particular  of  the  de- 
sign. The  messenger  being  brought  in  to  Archias,  who  was 
now  pretty  well  drunk,  and  delivering  the  letter,  said  to  him, 
‘‘  The  writer  of  this  desired  it  might  be  read  at  once  ; it  is  on 
urgent  business.’’  Archias,  with  a smile,  replied,  “Urgent 
business  to-morrow,”  and  so  receiving  the  letter,  he  put  it 
under  his  pillow,  and  returned  to  what  he  had  been  speaking 
of  with  Phillidas,  and  these  words  of  his  are  a proverb  to 
this  day  amongst  the  Greeks. 

Now  when  the  opportunity  seemed  convenient  for  action, 
they  set  out  in  two  companies  ; Pelopidas  and  Damoclides  with 
their  party  went  against  Leontidas  and  Hypates,  that  lived 
near  together ; Charon  and  Melon  against  Archias  and  Philip, 
having  put  on  women’s  apparel  over  their  breastplates,  and 
thick  garlands  of  hr  and  pine  to  shade  their  faces;  and  so,  as 
soon  as  they  came  to  the  door,  the  guests  clapped  and  gave  an 
huzza,  supposing  them  to  be  the  women  they  expected.  But 
when  the  conspirators  had  looked  about  the  room,  and  carefully 
marked  all  that  were  at  the  entertainment,  they  drew  their 
swords,  and  making  at  Archias  and  Philip  amongst  the  tables, 
disclosed  who  they  were.  Phillidas  persuaded  some  few  of  his 
guests  to  sit  still,  and  those  that  got  up  and  endeavored  to  as- 
sist the  polemarch,  being  drunk,  were  easly  despatched.  But 
Pelopidas  and  his  party  met  with  a harder  task  ; as  they  at- 
tempted Leontidas,  a sober  and  formidable  man,  and  when 
they  came  to  his  house  found  his  door  shut,  he  being  already 
gone  to  bed.  They  knocked  a long  time  before  any  one  would 
answer,  but  at  last,  a servant  that  heard  them,  coming  out  and 
unbarring  the  door,  as  soon  as  the  gate  gave  way,  they  rushed 
in,  and,  overturning  the  man,  made  all  haste  to  Leontidas’s 
chamber.  But  Leontidas,  guessing  at  the  matter  by  the  noise 
and  running,  leaped  from  his  bed  and  drew  his  dagg  jr,  but 
forgot  to  put  out  the  lights,  and  by  that  means  make  them  fall 
foul  on  one  another  in  the  dark.  As  it  was,  being  easily  seen 
by  reason  of  the  light,  he  received  them  at  his  chamber  doot 
and  stabbed  Cephisodorus,  the  first  man  that  entered  : on  his 
falling,  the  next  that  he  engaged  was  Pelopidas  ; and  the  pas- 
sage being  narrow  and  Cephisodorus’s  body  lying  in  the  way, 
there  was  a fierce  and  dangerous  conflict.  At  last  Pelopidas 
prevailed,  and  having  killed  Leontidas,  he  and  his  compan- 
ions went  in  pursuit  of  Hypates,  and  after  the  same  manner 
broke  into  his  house.  He  perceived  the  design,  and  fled  to 


PELOPIDAS. 


462 

his  neighbors ; but  they  closely  followed,  and  caught  and  killed 
him. 

This  done  they  joined  Melon,  and  sent  to  hasten  the  exiles 
they  had  left  in  Attica  : and  called  upon  the  citizens  to  main- 
tain their  liberty,  and  taking  down  the  spoils  from  the  porches, 
and  breaking  open  all  the  armorers’  shops  that  were  near, 
equipped  those  that  came  to  their  assistance.  Epaminondas 
and  Gorgidas  came  in  already  armed,  with  a gallant  train  of 
young  men,  and  the  best  of  the  old.  Now  the  city  was  in  a 
great  excitement  and  confusion,  a great  noise  and  hurry,  lights 
set  up  in  every  house,  men  running  here  and  there  ; however, 
the  people  did  not  as  yet  gather  into  a body,  but,  amazed  at 
the  proceedings,  and  not  clearly  understanding  the  matter, 
waited  for  the  day.  And,  therefore,  the  Spartan  officers  were 
thought  to  have  been  in  fault  for  not  falling  on  at  once,  since 
their  garrison  consisted  of  about  fifteen  hundred  men,  and  many 
of  the  citizens  ran  to  them  ; but  alarmed  with  the  noise,  the 
fires,  and  the  confused  running  of  the  people,  they  kept  quietly 
within  the  Cadmea.  As  soon  as  day  appeared,  the  exiles 
from  Attica  came  in  armed,  and  their  was  a general  assembly 
of  the  people.  Epaminondas  and  Gorgidas  brought  forth 
Pelopidas  and  his  party,  encompassed  by  the  priests,  who 
held  out  garlands,  and  exhorted  the  people  to  fight  for  their 
country  and  their  gods.  The  assembly,  at  their  appearance, 
rose  up  in  a body  and  with  shouts  and  acclamations  received 
the  men  as  their  deliverers  and  benefactors. 

Then  Pelopidas,  being  chosen  chief  captain  of  Boeotia, 
together  with  Melon  and  Charon,  proceeded  at  once  to  block- 
ade the  citadel,  and  stormed  it  on  all  sides,  being  extremely 
desirous  to  expel  the  Lacedaemonians,  and  free  the  Cadmea, 
before  an  army  could  come  from  Sparta  to  their  relief.  And 
he  just  so  narrowly  succeeded,  that  they,  having  surrendered  on 
terms  and  departed,  on  their  way  home  met  Cleombrotus  at 
Megara  marching  towards  Thebes  with  a considerable  force. 
The  Spartans  condemned  and  executed  Herippidas  and  Arcis- 
sus,  two  of  their  governors  at  Thebes,  and  Lysanoridas  the 
third  being  severely  fined,  fled  to  Peloponnesus.  This  action 
so  closely  resembling  that  of  Thrasybulus,  in  the  courage  of 
the  actors,  the  danger,  the  encounters,  and  equally  crowned 
with  success,  was  called  the  sister  of  it  by  the  Greeks.  For 
we  can  scarcely  find  any  other  examples  where  so  small  and 
weak  a party  of  men  by  bold  courage  overcame  such  numer 
ous  and  powerful  enemies,  or  brought  greater  blessings  to  their 
country  by  so  doing.  But  the  subsequent  change  of  affairs 


PELOriDAS. 


4S3 


made  this  action  the  niDre  famous  ; for  the  war  which  forever 
ruined  the  pretensions  of  Sparta  to  command,  and  put  an  end 
to  the  supremacy  she  then  exercised  alike  by  sea  and  by  land, 
proceeded  from  that  night,  in  which  Pelopidas  not  surprising 
any  fort,  or  castle,  or  citadel,  but  coming,  the  twelfth  man  to 
a private  house,  loosed  and  broke,  if  we  may  speak  truth  in 
metaphor,  the  chains  of  the  Spartan  sway,  which  before  seemed 
of  adamant  and  indissoluble. 

But  now  the  Lacedaemonians  invading  Boeotia  with  a great 
aimy,  the  Athenians,  affrighted  at  the  danger,  declared  them- 
selves no  allies  to  Thebes,  and  prosecuting  those  that  stood 
for  the  Boeotain  interest,  executed  some,  and  banished  and 
fined  others  : and  the  cause  of  Thebes,  destitute  of  allies, 
seemed  in  a desperate  condition.  But  Pelopidas  and  Gorgi- 
das,  holding  the  office  of  captains  of  Boeotia,  designing  to 
breed  a quarrel  between  the  Lacedaemonians  and  Athenians, 
made  this  contrivance.  One  Sphodrias,  a Spartan,  a man 
famous  indeed  for  courage  in  battle,  but  of  no  sound  judg- 
ment, full  of  ungrounded  hopes  and  foolish  ambition,  was  left 
with  an  army  at  Thespiae,  to  receive  and  succor  the  Theban 
renegad.es.  To  him  Pelopidas  and  his  colleagues  privately 
sent  a merchant,  one  of  their  friends,  with  money,  and, 
what  proved  more  efficient,  advice,  — that  it  more  became 
a man  of  his  worth  to  set  upon  some  great  enterprise,  and  that 
he  should,  making  a sudden  incursion  on  the  unprotected 
Athenians,  surprise  the  Piraeus  ; since  nothing  could  be  so 
grateful  to  Sparta,  as  to  take  Athens  ; and  the  Thebans,  of 
course,  would  not  stir  to  the  assistance  of  men  whom  they 
now  hated  and  looked  upon  as  traitors.  Sphodrias  being  at 
last  wrought  upon,  marched  into  Attica  by  night  with  his  army, 
and  advanced  as  far  as  Eleusis  ; but  there  his  soldiers^  hearts 
failing,  after  exposing  his  project  and  involving  the  Spartans 
in  a dangerous  war,  he  retreated  to  Thespiae.  After  this  the 
Athenians  zealously  sent  supplies  to  Thebes  and  putting  to 
sea,  sailed  to  many  places,  and  offered  support  and  protec- 
tion to  all  those  of  the  Greeks  who  were  willing  to  revolt. 

The  Thebans,  meantime,  singly,  having  many  skirmishes 
with  the  Spartans  in  Boeotia,  and  fighting  some  battles,  not 
great  indeed,  but  important  as  training  and  instructing  them, 
thus  had  their  minds  raised,  and  their  bodies  inured  to  labor, 
and  gained  both  experience  and  courage  by  these  frequent 
encounters  insomuch  that  we  have  it  related  that  Antalcidas, 
the  Spartan,  said  to  Agesilaus,  returning  wounded  from  Boeo- 
tia, “ Indeed,  the  Thebans  have  paid  you  handsomely  for 


PELOPIDAS. 


«4 

instructing  tliem  in  the  art  of  war,  against  their  wills.” 
In  real  truth,  however,  Agesilaus  was  not  their  master  in 
this,  but  those  that  prudently  and  opportunely,  as  men  do 
young  dogs,  set  them  on  their  enemies,  and  brought  them 
safely  off  after  they  had  tasted  the  sweets  of  victory  and 
resolution.  Of  all  those  leaders,  Pelopidas  deserves  the 
most  honor  : as  after  they  had  once  chosen  him  general,  he 
was  every  year  in  command  as  long  as  he  lived  ; either  cap- 
tain of  the  sacred  band,  or,  what  was  most  frequent,  chief 
captain  of  Boeotia.  About  Plataea  and  Thespiae  the  Spar- 
tans were  routed  and  put  to  flight,  and  Phoebidas,  that  sur- 
prised the  Cadmea,  slain ; and  at  Tanagra  a considerable 
force  was  worsted,  and  the  leader  Panthoides  killed.  But 
these  encounters,  though  they  raised  the  victor’s  spirits,  did 
not  thoroughly  dishearten  the  unsuccessful  ; for  there  was  no 
set  battle,  or  regular  fighting,  but  mere  incursions  on  advan- 
tage, in  which,  according  to. occasion,  they  charged,  retired 
again  or  pursued.  But  the  battle  at  Tegyrae,  which  seemed  a 
prelude  to  Leuctra,  won  Pelopidas  great  reputation  ; for  none 
of  the  other  commanders  could  claim  any  hand  in  the  design, 
nor  the  enemies  any  show  of  victory.  The  city  of  the  Orcho- 
menians  siding  with  the  Spartans,  and  having  received  two 
companies  for  its  guard,  he  kept  a constant  eye  upon  it,  and 
watched  his  opportunity.  Hearing  that  the  garrison  had  moved 
into  Locris,  and  hoping  to  find  Orchomenus  defenceless,  he 
marched  with  his  sacred  band,  and  some  few  horsemen.  But 
when  he  approached  the  city,  and  found  that  a reinforcement 
of  the  garrison  was  on  its  march  from  Sparta,  he  made  a cir- 
cuit round  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  and  retreated  with  his 
little  army  through  Tegyrae,  that  being  the  only  way  he  could 
pass.  For  the  river  Melas,  almost  as  soon  as  it  rises,  spreads 
itself  into  marshes  and  navigable  pools,  and  makes  all  the 
plain  between  impassable.  A little  below  the  marshes  stands 
the  temple  and  oracle  of  Apollo  Tegyraeus,  forsaken  not  long 
before  that  time,  having  flourished  till  the  Median  wars, 
Echecrates  then  being  priest.  Here  they  profess  that  the 
god  was  born  ; the  neighboring  mountain  is  called  Delos,  and 
there  the  river  Melas  comes  again  into  a channel ; behind  the 
temple  rises  two  spring,  admirable  for  the  sweetness,  abun- 
dance, and  coolness  of  the  streams ; one  they  called  Phoenix, 
the  other  Elaea,  even  to  the  present  time,  as  if  Lucina  had 
not  been  delivered  between  two  trees,  but  fountains.  A 
place  hard  by,  called  Ptoum,  is  shown,  where  they  say  she 
was  affrighted  by  the  appearance  of  a boar ; and  the  stories 


PELOPIDAS 


455 


of  the  Python  and  Tityus  are  in  like  manner  appropriated  by 
these  localities.  I omit  many  of  the  points  that  are  used  as 
arguments.  For  our  tradition  does  not  rank  this  god  amongst 
those  that  were  born,  and  then  made  immortal,  as  Hercules 
and  Bacchus,  whom  their  virtue  raised  above  a mortal  and 
passible  condition  ; but  Apollo  is  one  of  the  eternal  unbegot- 
ten deities,  if  we  may  collect  any  certainty  concerning  these 
things,  from  the  statements  of  the  oldest  and  wisest  in  such 
subjects. 

As  the  Thebans  were  retreating  from  Orchomenus  towards 
Tegyrae,  the  Spartans,  at  the  same  time  marching  from  Locris, 
met  them.  As  soon  as  they  came  in  view,  advancing  through 
the  straits,  one  told  Pelopidas,  ‘‘  We  are  fallen  into  our  ene- 
my’s hands  ; ” he  replied.  And  why  not  they  into  ours  ? ” 
and  immediately  commanded  his  horse  to  come  up  from  the 
rear  and  charge,  while  he  himself  drew  his  infantry,  being 
three  hundred  in  number,  into  a close  body,  hoping  by  that 
means,  at  whatsoever  point  he  made  the  attack,  to  break  his 
way  through  his  more  numerous  enemies.  The  Spartans  had 
two  companies  (the  company  consisting,  as  Ephorus  states, 
of  five  hundred  ; Callisthenes  says  seven  hundred ; others, 
as  Polybius,  nine  hundred)  ; and  their  leaders,  Gorgoleon  and 
Theopompus,  confident  of  success,  advanced  upon  the  The- 
bans. The  charge  being  made  with  much  fury,  chiefly  where  the 
commanders  were  posted,  the  Spartan  captains  that  engaged 
Polopidas  were  first  killed  ; and  those  immediately  around 
them  suffering  severely,  the  whole  army  was  thus  disheartened, 
and  opened  a lane  for  the  Thebans  as  if  they  desired  to  pass 
through  and  escape.  But  when  Pelopidas  entered,  and  turn- 
ing against  those  that  stood  their  ground,  still  went  on  with 
a bloody  slaughter,  an  open  flight  ensued  amongst  the  SjDar- 
tans.  The  pursuit  was  carried  but  a little  way,  because  they 
feared  the  neighboring  Orchomenians,  and  the  reinforcements 
from  Lacedaemon  ; they  had  succeeded,  however,  in  fighting 
a way  through  their  enemies,  and  overpowering  their  whole 
force  ; and,  therefore,  erecting  a trophy,  and  spoiling  the 
slain,  they  returned  home  extremely  encouraged  with  their 
achievements.  For  in  all  the  great  wars  there  had  ever  been 
against  Greeks  or  barbarians,  the  Spartans  were  never  before 
beaten  by  a smaller  company  than  tlieir  own  ; nor,  indeed,  in 
a set  battle,  when  their  number  was  equal.  Hence  their 
courage  was  thought  irresistible,  and  their  high  repute  before 
the  battle  made  a conquest  already  of  enemies,  who  thought 
themselves  no  match  for  the  men  of  Sparta  even  on  equal 


4S6 


PELOPIDAS. 


terms.  But  this  battle  first  taught  the  other  Greeks,  that  not 
only  Eurotas,  or  the  country  between  Babyce  and  Cnacion, 
breeds  men  of  courage  and  resolution,  but  that  where  the 
youth  are  ashamed  of  baseness,  and  ready  to  venture  in  a 
good  cause,  where  they  fly  disgrace  more  than  danger,  there, 
wherever  it  be,  are  found  the  bravest  and  most  formidable 
opponents. 

Gorgidas,  according  to  some,  first  formed  the  Sacred 
Band  of  three  hundred  chosen  men,  to  whom,  as  being  a 
guard  for  the  citadel,  the  State  allowed  provision,  and  all 
things  necessary  for  exercise : and  hence  they  were  called 
the  city  band,  as  citadels  of  old  were  usually  called  cities. 
Others  say  that  it  was  composed  of  young  men  attached  to 
each  other  by  personal  affection,  and  a pleasant  saying  of 
Pammenes  is  current,  that  Homer’s  Nestor  was  not  well 
skilled  in  ordering  an  army,  when  he  advised  the  Greeks 
to  rank  tribe  and  tribe,  and  family  and  family  together,  that 

So  tribe  might  tribe,  and  kinsmen  kinsmen  aid, 

but  that  he  should  have  joined  lovers  and  their  beloved.  Foi 
men  of  the  same  tribe  or  family  little  value  one  another  when 
dangers  press  ; but  a band  cemented  by  friendship  grounded 
upon  love,  is  never  to  be  broken,  and  invincible  ; since  the 
lovers,  ashamed  to  be  base  in  sight  of  their  beloved,  and  the 
beloved  before  their  lovers,  willingly  rush  into  danger  for  the 
relief  of  one  another.  Nor  can  that  be  wondered  at  since 
they  have  more  regard  for  their  absent  lovers  than  for  others 
present ; as  in  the  instance  of  the  man,  who,  when  his  enemy 
was  going  to  kill  him,  earnestly  requested  him  to  run  him 
through  the  breast,  that  his  lover  might  not  blush  to  see  him 
wounded  in  the  back.  It  is  a tradition  likewise,  that  lolaiis, 
who  assisted  Hercules  in  his  labors  and  fought  at  his  side, 
was  beloved  of  him  ; and  Aristotle  observes,  that  even  in  his 
time,  lovers  plighted  their  faith  at  lolaiis’s  tomb.  It  is  likely, 
therefore,  that  this  band  was  called  sacred  on  this  account ; 
as  Plato  calls  a lover  a divine  friend.  It  is  stated  that  it 
was  never  beaten  till  the  battle  at  Chaeronea  : and  when  Philip, 
after  the  fight,  took  a view  of  the  slain,  and  came  to  the  place 
where  the  three  hundred  that  fought  his  phalanx  lay  dead  to- 
gether, he  wondered,  and  understanding  that  it  was  the  band  of 
lovers,  he  shed  tears  and  said,  “ Perish  any  man  who  suspects 
that  these  men  either  did  or  suffered  any  thing  that  was 
base.’’ 

It  was  not  the  disaster  of  Laius,  as  the  poets  imagine,  that 


PELOPIDAS. 


4S7 


first  gave  rise  to  this  form  of  attachment  amongst  the  The- 
bans, but  their  law-givers,  designing  to  soften  whilst  they  were 
young,  their  natural  fierceness,  brought,  for  example,  the  pipe 
into  great  esteem,  both  in  serious  and  sportive  occasions,  and 
gave  great  encouragement  to  these  friendships  in  the  Palaes- 
tra, to  temper  the  manners  and  characters  of  the  youth. 
With  a view  to  this  they  did  well,  again,  to  make  Harmony, 
the  daughter  of  Mars  and  Venus,  their  tutelar  deity ; since, 
where  force  and  courage  is  joined  with  gracefulness  and  win- 
ning behavior,  a harmony  ensues  that  combines  all  the  ele- 
ments of  society  in  perfect  consonance  and  order.  Gorgidas 
distributed  this  Sacred  Band  all  through  the  front  ranks  of 
the  infantry  and  thus  made  their  gallantry  less  conspicuous  ; 
not  being  united  in  one  body,  but  mingled  with  so  many 
others  of  inferior  resolution,  they  had  no  fair  opportunity  of 
showing  wfiat  they  could  do.  But  Pelopidas,  having  suf- 
ficiently tried  their  bravery  at  Tegyrae  where  they  had  fought 
alone,  and  around  his  own  person,  never  afterward  divided 
them,  but  keeping  them  entire,  and  as  one  man,  gave  them 
the  first  duty  in  the  greatest  battles.  For  as  horses  run  brisker 
in  a chariot  than  singly,  not  that  their  joint  force  divides  the 
air  with  greater  ease,  but  because  being  matched  one  against 
the  other  emulation  kindles  and  inflames  their  courage  ; 
thus  he  thought,  brave  men,  provoking  one  another  to  noble 
actions,  would  prove  most  serviceable,  and  most  resolute, 
where  all  were  united  together. 

Now  when  the  Lacedaemonians  had  made  peace  with  the 
other  Greeks,  and  united  all  their  strength  against  the  The- 
bans, only,  and  their  king,  Cleombrotus,  had  passed  the  fron- 
tier with  ten  thousand  foot  and  one  thousand  horse,  and  not 
only  subjection,  as  heretofore,  but  total  dispersion  and  anni- 
hilation threatened,  and  Boeofia  was  in  a greater  fear  than 
ever, — Pelopidas,  leaving  his  house,  when  his  wife  followed 
him  on  his  way,  and  with  tears  begged  him  to  be  carelul  of 
his  life,  made  answer,  “ Private  men,  my  wife,  should  be  advised 
to  look  to  themselves,  generals  to  save  others.’  And  when  he 
came  to  the  camp,  and  found  the  chief  captains  disagreeing,  he, 
first,  joined  the  side  of  Epaminondas,  who  advised  to  fight 
the  enemy  ; though  Pelopidas  himself  was  not  then  in  office  as 
chief  captain  of  Bceotia,  but  in  command  of  the  Sacred  Band, 
and  trusted  as  it  was  fit  a man  should  be,  who  had  given  his 
country  such  proofs  of  his  zeal  for  its  freedom.  And  so  when 
a battle  was  agreed  on,  and  they  encamped  in  front  of  the 
Spartans  at  Leuctra,  Pelopidas  saw  a vision,  which  much 


PELOPIDAS. 


1-S^ 


discomposed  him.  In  that  plain  lie  the  bodies  of  the  daugh« 
ters  of  one  Scedasus,  called  from  the  place  Leuctridae,  having 
been  buried  there,  after  having  been  ravished  by  some  Spartan 
strangers.  When  this  base  and  lawless  deed  was  done,  and 
their  father  could  get  no  satisfaction  at  Lacedaemon,  with 
bitter  imprecations  on  the  Spartans,  he  killed  himself  at  his 
daughters’  tombs:  and  from  that  time,  the  prophecies  and 
oracles  still  warned  them  to  have  a great  care  of  the  divine 
vengeance  at  Leuctra.  Many,  however,  did  not  understand 
the  meaning,  being  uncertain  about  the  place,  because  there 
was  a little  maritime  town  of  Laconia  called  Leuctron,  and 
near  Megalopolis  in  Arcadia  a place  of  the  same  name  ; and 
the  villany  was  committed  long  before  this  battle. 

Now  Pelopidas,  being  asleep  in  the  camp,  thought  he  saw 
the  maidens  weeping  about  their  tombs,  and  cursing  the 
Spartans,  and  Scedasus  commanding,  if  they  desired  the  vic- 
tory, to  sacrifice  a virgin  with  chestnut  hair  to  his  daughters. 
Pelopidas  loked  on  this  as  an  harsh  and  impious  injunction, 
but  rose  and  told  it  to  the  prophets  and  commanders  of  the 
army,  some  of  whom  contended,  that  it  was  fit  to  obey,  and 
adduced  as  examples  from  the  ancients,  Menoeceus,  son  of 
Creon  ; Macaria,  daughter  of  Hercules  ; and  from  later  times, 
Pherecydes  the  philosopher,  slain  by  the  Lacedcemonians, 
and  his  skin,  as  the  oracles  advised,  still  kept  by  their  kings. 
Leonidas,  again,  warned  by  the  oracle,  did  as  it  were  sacrifice 
himself  for  the  good  of  Greece  ; Themistocles  offered  human 
victims  to  Bacchus  Omestes,  before  the  engagement  at  Sala- 
mis  ; and  success  showed  their  actions  to  be  good.  On  the 
contrary,  Agesilaus  going  from  the  same  place,  and  against 
the  same  enemies  that  Agamemnon  did,  and  being  command- 
ed in  a dream  at  Aulis  to  sacrifice  his  daughter,  was  so  weak 
as  to  disobey  ; the  consequence  of  which  was,  that  his  expedi- 
tion was  unsuccessful  and  inglorious.  But  some  on  the  other 
side  urged  that  such  a barbarous  and  impious  obligation 
could  not  be  pleasing  to  any  Superior  Beings ; that  typhons 
and  giants  did  not  preside  over  the  world,  but  the  general 
father  of  gods  and  men  ; that  it  was  absurB  to  imagine  any 
divinities  or  powers  delighted  in  slaughter  and  sacrifices  of 
men ; or,  if  there  were  any  such,  they  were  to  be  neglected 
as  weak  and  unable  to  assist ; such  unreasonable  and  cruel 
desires  could  only  proceed  from,  and  live  in,  weak  and  de- 
praved minds. 

The  commanders  thus  disputing,  and  Pelopidas  being  in 
1 great  perplexity,  a mare  colt,  breaking  from  the  herd,  ran 


PELOPIDAS. 


459 


through  the  camp,  and  when  she  came  to  the  place  where 
they  were,  stood  still  ; and  whilst  some  admired  her  bright 
chestnut  color,  others  her  mettle,  or  the  strength  and  fury  of 
her  neighing,  Theocritus,  the  augur,  took  thought,  and  cried  out 
to  Pelopidas,  “ O good  friend ! look,  the  sacrifice  is  come  ; 
expect  no  other  virgin,  but  use  that  which  the  gods  have  sent 
thee.’’  With  that  they  took  the  colt,  and,  leading  her  to  the 
maidens’  sepulchres,  with  the  usual  solemnity  and  prayers, 
offered  her  with  joy,  and  spread  through  the  whole  army  the 
account  of  Pelopidas’s  dream,  and  how  they  had  given  the 
required  sacrifice. 

In  the  battle,  Epaminondas,  bending  his  phalanx  to  the 
left,  that,  as  much  as  possible,  he  might  divide  the  right  wing, 
composed  of  Spartans,  from  the  other  Greeks,  and  distress 
Cleombrotus  by  a fierce  charge  in  column  on  that  wing,  the 
enemies  perceived  the  design,  and  began  to  change  their 
order,  to  open  and  extend  their  right  wing,  and,  as  they  far 
exceeded  him  in  number,  to  encompass  Epaminondas.  But 
Pelopidas  with  the  three  hundred  came  rapidly  up,  before 
Cleombrotus  could  extend  his  line,  and  close  up  his  divisions, 
and  so  fell  upon  the  Spartans  while  in  disorder  ; though  the 
Lacedaemonians,  the  expertest  and  most  practised  soldiers  of 
all  mankind,  used  to  train  and  accustom  themselves  to  noth- 
ing so  much  as  to  keep  themselves  from  confusion  upon  any 
change  of  position,  and  to  follow  any  leader,  or  right  hand 
man,  and  form  in  order,  and  fight  on  what  part  soever  dangers 
press.  In  this  battle,  however,  Epaminondas  with  his  phalanx, 
neglecting  the  other  Greeks,  and  charging  them  alone,  and 
Pelopidas  coming  up  with  such  incredible  speed  and  fury,  so 
broke  their  courage  and  baffied  their  art,  that  there  began 
such  a flight  and  slaughter  amongst  the  Spartans,  as  was 
never  before  known.  And  so  Pelopidas,  though  in  no  high 
office,  but  only  captain  of  a small  band,  got  as  much  reputa- 
tion by  the  victory,  as  Epaminondas,  who  was  general  and 
chief  captain  of  Boeotia. 

Into  Peloponnesus,  however,  they  both  advanced  together 
as  colleagues  in  supreme  command,  and  gained  the  greater 
part  of  the  nations  there  from  the  Spartan  confederacy  ; Elis, 
Argos,  all  Arcadia,  and  much  of  Laconia  itself.  It  was  the 
dead  of  winter,  and  but  few  of  the  last  days  of  the  month 
remained,  and,  in  the  beginning  of  the  next,  new  officers  were 
to  succeed,  and  whoever  failed  to  deliver  up  his  charge,  for- 
feited his  head.  Therefore,  the  other  chief  captains  fearing 
the  law,  and  to  avoid  the  sharpness  of  the  winter,  advised  a 


460 


PELOPIDAS. 


retreat.  But  Pelopidas  joined  with  Epaminondas,  a'jid,  encour- 
aging his  countrymen,  led  them  against  Sparta,  and,  passing 
the  Eurotas,  took  many  of  the  towns,  and  wasted  the  countr} 
as  far  as  the  sea.  This  army  consisted  of  seventy  thousand 
Greeks,  of  which  number  the  Thebans  could  not  make  the 
twelfth  part  ; but  the  reputation  of  the  men  made  all  their 
allies  contented  to  follow  them  as  leaders,  though  no  articles 
to  that  effect  had  been  made.  For,  indeed,  it  seems  the  first 
and  paramount  law,  that  he  that  wants  a defender,  is  naturally 
a subject  to  him  that  is  able  to  defend  : as  mariners,  though  in 
a calm  or  in  the  port  they  grow  insolent,  and  brave  the  pilot, 
yet  when  a storm  comes,  and  danger  is  at  hand,  they  all  at- 
tend, and  put  their  hopes  in  him.  So  the  Argives,  Eleans,  and 
Arcadians,  in  their  congresses,  would  contend  with  the  The- 
bans for  superiority  in  command,  yet  in  a battle,  or  any 
hazardous  undertaking,  of  their  own  will  followed  their  Theban 
captains.  In  this  expedition,  they  united  all  Arcadia  into  one 
body,  and  expelling  the  Spartans  that  inhabited  Messenia, 
they  called  back  the  old  Messenians,  and  established  them  in 
Ithome  in  one  body  ; — and,  returning  through  Cenchreae,  they 
dispersed  the  Athenians,  who  designed  to  set  upon  them  in 
the  straits,  and  hinder  their  march. 

For  these  exploits,  all  the  other  Greeks  loved  their  cour- 
age, and  admired  their  success  ; but  among  their  own  citizens, 
envy,  still  increasing  with  their  glory,  prepared  them  no 
pleasing  nor  agreeable  reception.  Both  were  tried  for  their 
lives,  because  they  did  not  deliver  up  their  command  in  the 
first  month,  Bucatius,  as  the  law  required,  but  kept  it  four 
months  longer,  in  which  time  they  did  these  memorable 
actions  in  Messenia,  Arcadia,  and  Laconia.  Pelopidas  was 
first  tried,  and  therefore  in  greatest  danger,  but  both  were 
acquitted.  Epaminondas  bore  the  accusation  and  trial  very 
patiently,  esteeming  it  a great  and  essential  part  of  courage 
and  generosity,  not  to  resent  injuries  in  political  life.  But 
Pelopidas,  being  a man  of  a fiercer  temper,  and  stirred  on 
, by  his  friends  to  revenge  the  affront,  took  the  following  occa- 
sion. Meneclidas,  the  orator,  was  one  of  those  that  had  met 
with  Melon  and  Pelopidas  at  Charon’s  house  ; but  not  le- 
ceiving  equal  honor,  and  being  powerful  in  his  speech,  but 
loose  in  his  manners,  and  ill  natured,  he  abused  his  natural 
endowments,  even  after  this  trial,  to  accuse  and  calumniate 
his  betters.  He  excluded  Epaminondas  from  the  chief 
captaincy,  and  for  a long  time  kept  the  upper  hand  of  him  ; 
out  he  was  not  powerful  enough  to  bring  Pelopidas  out  of  the 


PELOPIDAS. 


461 


people’s  favor,  and  therefore  endeavored  to  raise  a quarrel 
between  him  and  Charon.  And  since  it  is  some  contort  to 
the  envious  to  make  those  men,  whom  themselves  cannot 
excel,  appear  worse  than  others,  he  studiously  enlarged  upon 
Charon’s  actions  in  his  speeches  to  the  people,  and  made 
panegyrics  on  his  expeditions  and  victories  ; and,  of  the  vie* 
^ tory  which  the  horsemen  won  at  Plataea,  before  the  battle  at 
Leuctra,  under  Charon’s  command,  he  endeavored  to  make 
the  following  sacred  memorial.  Androcydes,  the  Cyzicenian, 
had  undertaken  to  paint  a previous  battle  for  the  city,  and 
was  at  work  in  Thebes  ; and  when  the  revolt  began,  and  the 
war  came  on,  the  Thebans  kept  the  picture  that  was  then 
almost  finished.  This  picture  Meneclidas  persuaded  them  to 
dedicate,  inscribed  with  Charon’s  name,  designing  by  that 
means  to  obscure  the  glory  of  Epaminondas  and  Pelopidas. 
This  was  a ludicrous  piece  of  pretension,  to  set  a single 
victory,  where  only  one  Gerandas,  an  obscure  Spartan,  and 
forty  more  were  slain,  above  such  numerous  and  important 
battles.  This  motion  Pelopidas  opposed,  as  contrary  to  law, 
alleging  that  it  was  not  the  custom  of  the  Thebans  to  honor 
any  single  man,  but  to  attribute  the  victory  to  their  country  ; 
yet  in  all  the  contest  he  extremely  commended  Charon,  and 
confined  himself  to  showing  Meneclidas  to  be  a troublesome 
and  envious  fellow,  asking  the  Thebans,  if  they  had  done 
nothing  that  was  excellent.  . . . insomuch  that  Meneclidas 
was  severely  fined  ; and  he,  being  unable  to  pay,  endeavored 
afterwards  to  disturb  the  government.  These  things  give  us 
some  light  into  Pelopidas’s  life. 

Now  when  Alexander,  the  tyrant  of  Pherae,  made  open 
war  against  some  of  the  Thessalians,  and  had  designs  against 
all,  the  cities  sent  an  embassy  to  ddiebes,  to  desire  succors 
and  a general  ; and  Pelopidas,  knowing  that  Epaminondas 
was  detained  by  the  Peloponnesian  affairs,  offered  himself  to 
lead  the  Thessalians,  being  unwilling  to  let  his  courage  and 
skill  lie  idle,  and  thinking  it  unfit  that  Epaminondas  should 
be  withdrawn  from  his  present  duties.  When  he  came  into 
1 hessaly  with  his  army,  he  presently  took  Larissa,  and  en- 
deavored to  reclaim  Alexander,  who  submitted,  and  bring  him, 
from  being  a tyrant,  to  govern  gently,  and  according  to  law  ; 
but  finding  him  untractable  and  brutish,  and  hearing  great 
complaints  of  his  lust  and  cruelty,  Pelopidas  began  to  be 
severe,  and  used  him  roughly,  insomuch  that  the  tyrant  stole 
away  privately  with  his  guard.  But  Pelopidas,  leaving  the 
Thessalians  fearless  of  the  tyrant,  and  friends  amongst  them 


462 


PELOPIDAS. 


selves,  marched  into  Macedonia,  where  Ptolemy  was  then  at 
war  with  Alexander,  the  king  of  Macedon  ; both  parties 
having  sent  for  him  to  hear  and  determine  their  differences, 
and  assist  the  one  that  appeared  injured.  When  he  came,  he 
reconciled  them,  calling  back  the  exiles  ; and  receiving  for 
hostages  Philip  the  king’s  brother,  and  thirty  children  of  the 
n )bles,  he  brought  them  to  Thebes  ; showing  the  other  Greeks 
how  wide  a reputation  the  Thebans  had  gained  for  honesty 
and  courage.  This  was  that  Philip  who  afterwards  endeav- 
ored to  enslave  the  Greeks  : then  he  was  a boy,  and  lived 
with  Pammenes  in  Thebes  ; and  hence  some  conjecture,  that 
he  took  Epaminondas’s  actions  for  the  rule  of  his  own  ; and 
perhaps,  indeed,  he  did  take  example  from  his  activity  and 
skill  in  war,  which,  however,  was  but  a small  portion  of  his 
virtues  ; of  his  temperance,  justice,  generosity,  and  mildness, 
in  which  he  was  truly  great,  Philip  enjoyed  no  share  either  by 
nature  or  imitation. 

After  this,  upon  a second  complaint  of  the  Thessalians 
against  Alexander  of  Pherae,  as  a disturber  of  the  cities, 
Pelopidas  was  joined  with  Ismenias,  in  an  embassy  to  him  • 
but  led  no  forces  from  Thebes,  not  expecting  any  war,  and 
therefore  was  necessitated  to  make  use  of  the  Thessalians 
upon  the  emergency.  At  the  same  time,  also,  Macedon  was 
in  confusion  again,  as  Ptolemy  had  murdered  the  king,  and 
seized  the  government : but  the  king’s  friends  sent  for  Pelop- 
idas, and  he  being  willing  to  interpose  in  the  matter,  but  hav- 
ing no  soldiers  of  his  own,  enlisted  some  mercenaries  in  the 
country,  and  with  them  marched  against  Ptolemy.  When 
they  faced  one  another  Ptolemy  corrupted  these  mercenaries 
with  a sum  of  money,  and  persuaded  them  to  revolt  to  him  : 
but  yet  fearing  the  very  name  and  reputation  of  Pelopidas,  he 
came  to  him  as  his  superior,  submitted,  begged  his  pardon, 
and  protested  that  he  kept  the  government  only  for  the 
brothers  of  the  dead  king,  and  would  prove  a friend  to  the 
friends,  and  an  enemy  to  the  enemies  of  Thebes  ; and,  to 
confirm  this,  he  gave  his  son,  Philoxenus,  and  fifty  of  his  com- 
panions, for  hostages.  These  Pelopidas  sent  to  Thebes  ; but 
he  himself,  being  vexed  at  the  treachery  of  the  mercenaries, 
and  understanding  that  most  of  their  goods,  their  wives  and 
children,  lay  at  Pharsalus,  so  that  if  he  could  take  them,  the 
injury  would  be  sufficiently  revenged,  got  together  some  of 
the  Thessalians,  and  marched  to  Pharsalus.  When  he  just 
entered  the  city,  Alexander,  the  tyrant,  appeared  before  it 
with  an  army  ; but  Pelopidas  and  his  friends,  thinking  that 


PELOPIDAS. 


4^3 


He  came  to  clear  himself  from  those  crimes  that  were  laid  to 
his  charge,  went  to  him  ; and  though  they  knew  \'ery  well  that 
he  was  profligate  and  cruel,  yet  they  imagined  that  the  au- 
thority of  Thebes,  and  their  own  dignity  and  reputation,  would 
secure  them  from  violence.  But  the  tyrant,  seeing  them  come 
unarmed  and  alone,  seized  them,  and  made  himself  master  of 
]*harsalus.  Upon  this  his  subjects  were  much  intimidated, 
thinking  that  aBer  so  great  and  so  bold  an  iniquity,  he  would 
spare  none,  but  behave  himself  toward  all,  and  in  all  matterSj, 
as  one  despairing  of  his  life. 

The  Thebans,  when  they  heard  of  this,  were  very  much 
enraged,  and  despatched  an  army,  Epaminondas  being  then 
in  disgrace,  under  the  command  of  other  leaders.  When  the 
tyrant  brought  Pelopidas  to  Pheras,  at  first  he  permitted  those 
that  desired  it  to  speak  with  him,  imagining  that  this  disaster 
would  break  his  spirit,  and  make  him  appear  contemptible. 
But  when  Pelopidas  advised  the  complaining  Pherasans  to  be 
comforted,  as  if  the  tyrant  was  now  certain  in  a short  time  to 
smart  for  his  injuries,  and  sent  to  tell  him,  “ That  it  was 
absurd  daily  to  torment  and  murder  his  wretched  innocent 
subjects,  and  yet  spare  him,  who,  he  well  knew,  if  ever  he 
got  his  liberty,  would  be  bitterly  revenged  ; ’’  the  tyrant,  won 
dering  at  his  boldness  and  freedom  of  speech,  replied,  And 
why  is  Pelopidas  in  haste  to  die  ? ’’  He,  hearing  of  it,  rejoin- 
ed, “ That  you  may  be  the  sooner  ruined,  being  then  more 
hated  by  the  gods  than  now.'’  From  that  time  he  forbade 
any  to  converse  with  him  ; but  Thebe,  the  daughter  of  Jason 
and  wife  to  Alexander,  hearing  from  the  keepers  of  the  bravery 
and  noble  behavior  of  Pelopidas,  had  a great  desire  to  see 
and  speak  with  him.  Now  when  she  came  into  the  prison, 
and,  as  a woman,  could  not  at  once  discern  his  greatness  in 
his  calamity,  only  judging  by  the  meanness  of  his  attire  and 
general  appeaance,  that  he  was  used  basely  and  not  befitting 
a man  of  his  reputation,  she  wept.  Pelopidas,  as  first  not 
knowing  who  she  was,  stood  amazed  ; but  when  he  under- 
stood, saluted  her  by  her  father's  name — Jason  and  he  hav- 
ing been  friends  and  familiars — and  she  saying,  I pity  your 
<\'ife,  Sir,”  he  replied,  “ And  I you,  that  though  notin  chains, 
can  endure  Alexander.”  This  touched  the  woman,  who  al- 
ready hated  Alexander  for  his  cruelty  and  injustice,  for  his 
general  debaucheries,  and  for  his  abuse  of  her  youngest 
brother.  She,  therefore,  often  went  to  Pelopidas,  and,  speak- 
ing freely  of  the  indignities  she  suffered,  grew  more  enraged, 
and  more  exasperated  against  Alexander. 


464 


PELOPIDAS. 


The  Theban  generals  that  were  sent  into  Thessal}  aia 
nothing,  but,  being  either  unskilful  or  unfortunate,  made  a 
dishonorable  retreat,  for  which  the  city  fined  each  of  them 
ten  thousand  drachmas,  and  sent  Epaminondas  with  their 
forces.  The  Thessalians,  inspirited  by  the  fame  of  this  gen- 
eral, at  once  began  to  stir,  and  the  tyrant’s  affairs  were  at  the 
verge  of  destruction  ; so  great  was  the  fear  that  possessed 
his  captains  and  his  friends,  and  so  eager  the  desire  of  his 
subjects  to  revolt,  in  hope  of  his  speedy  punishment.  But 
Epaminondas,  more  solicitous  for  the  safety  of  Pelopidas  than 
his  own  glory,  and  fearing  that  if  things  came  to  extremity, 
Alexander  would  grow  desperate,  and,  like  a wild  beast,  turn 
and  worry  him,  did  not  prosecute  the  war  to  the  utmost ; but, 
hovering  still  over  him  with  his  army,  he  so  handled  the  ty- 
rant as  not  to  leave  him  any  confidence,  and  yet  not  to  drive 
him  to  despair  and  fury.  He  was  aware  of  his  savageness, 
and  the  little  value  he  had  for  right  and  justice,  insomuch 
that  sometimes  he  buried  men  alive,  and  sometimes  dressed 
them  in  bear’s  and  boar’s  skins,  and  then  baited  them  with 
dogs,  or  shot  at  them  for  his  divertisement.  At  Meliboea 
and  Scotussa,  two  cities,  his  allies,  he  called  all  the  inhabi- 
tants to  an  assembly,  and  then  surrounded  them  and  cut  them 
to  pieces  with  his  guards.  He  consecrated  the  spear  with 
which  he  killed  his  uncle  Polyphron,  and,  crowning  it  with 
garlands,  sacrificed  to  it  as  a god,  and  called  it  Tychon. 
And  once  seeing  a tragedian  act  Euripides’s  Troades,  he  left 
the  theatre  ; but  sending  for  the  actor,  bade  him  not  to  be 
concerned  at  his  departure,  but  act  as  he  had  been  used  to 
do,  as  it  was  not  in  contempt  of  him  that  he  departed,  but 
because  he  was  ashamed  that  his  citizens  should  see  him  who 
never  pitied  any  man  that  he  murdered,  weep  at  the  sufferings 
of  Hecuba  and  Andromache.  This  tyrant,  however,  alarmed 
at  the  very  name,  report,  and  appearance  of  an  expedition 
under  the  conduct  of  Epaminondas,  presently 

Dropped  like  a craven  cock  his  conquered  wing, 

and  sent  an  embassy  to  entreat  and  offer  satisfaction.  Epami- 
nondas refused  to  admit  such  a man  as  an  ally  to  tlie  The- 
bans, but  granted  him  a truce  of  thirty  days,  and,  Pelopidas 
and  Ismenias  being  delivered  up,  returned  home. 

Now  the  Thebans,  understanding  that  the  Spartans  and 
Athenians  had  sent  an  embassy  to  the  Persians  for  assistance, 
themselves,  likewise,  sent  Pelopidas ; an  excellent  design  to 
increase  his  glory,  no  man  having  ever  before  passed  through 


PELOPIDAS. 


465 


the  domimons  of  the  king  with  greater  fame  and  reputation. 
For  the  glory  that  he  won  against  the  Spartans,  did  not  creep 
slowly  or  obscurely  ; but,  after  the  fame  of  the  first  battle  at 
I^euctra  was  gone  abroad,  the  report  of  new  victories  contin- 
ually following,  exceedingly  increased,  and  spread  his  celeb- 
rity far  and  near.  Whatever  satraps  or  generals  or  com- 
manders he  met,  he  was  the  object  of  their  wonder  and  dis- 
course. “ This  is  the  man,^^  they  said,  “ who  hath  beaten 
the  Lacedaemonians  from  sea  and  land,  and  confined  that 
Sparta  within  Taygetus  amd  Eurotas,  which,  but  a little  before, 
under  the  conduct  of  Agesilaus,  was  entering  upon  a war 
with  the  great  king  about  Susa  and  Ecbatana.^’  This  pleased 
Artaxerxes,  and  he  was  the  more  inclined  to  show  Pelopidas 
attention  and  honor,  being  desirous  to  seem  reverenced,  and 
attended  by  the  greatest.  But  when  he  saw  him  and  heard 
his  discourse,  more  solid  than  the  Athenians,  and  not  so 
haughty  as  the  Spartans,  his  regard  was  heightened,  and, 
truly  acting  like  a king,  he  openly  showed  the  respect  that  he 
felt  for  him ; and  this  the  other  ambassadors  perceived. 
Of  all  other  Greeks  he  had  been  thought  to  have  done  An- 
talcidas,  the  Spartan,  the  greatest  honor,  by  sending  him  that 
garland  dipped  in  an  unguent,  which  he  himself  had  worn  at 
an  entertainment.  Indeed,  he  did  not  deal  so  delicately  with 
Pelopidas,  but,  according  to  the  custom,  gave  him  the  most 
splendid  and  considerable  presents,  and  granted  him  his  de- 
sires,— that  the  Grecians  should  be  free,  Messenia  inhabited, 
and  the  Thebans  accounted  the  king’s  hereditary  friends. 
With  these  answers,  but  not  accepting  one  of  the  presents, 
except  what  was  a pledge  of  kindness  and  good-will,  he  re- 
turned. This  behavior  of  Pelopidas  ruined  the  other  ambas- 
sadors ; the  Athenians  condemned  and  executed  their  Timag- 
oras,  and,  indeed,  if  they  did  it  for  receiving  so  many  pres- 
ents from  the  king,  their  sentence  was  just  and  good ; as  he 
not  only  took  gold  and  silver,  but  a rich  bed,  and  slaves  to 
make  it,  as  if  the  Greeks  were  unskilful  in  that  art ; besides 
eighty  cows  and  herdsmen,  professing  he  needed  cow’s  milk 
for  some  distemper ; and,  lastly,  he  was  carried  in  a litter  to 
the  seaside,  with  a present  of  four  talents  for  his  attendants. 
But  the  Athenians,  perhaps,  were  not  so  much  irritated  at  his 
greediness  for  the  presents.  For  Epicrates  the  baggage- 
carrier  not  only  confessed  to  the  people  that  he  had  received 
gifts  from  the  king,  but  made  a motion,  that  instead  of  nine 
archons,  they  should  yearly  choose  nine  poor  citizens  to  be 
sent  ambassadors  to  the  king,  and  enriched  by  his  presents, 


466 


PELOPTDAS. 


and  the  people  only  I aughed  at  the  joke.  But  they  were 
vexed  that  the  Thebans  obtained  their  desires,  never  consid- 
ering that  Pelopidas’s  fame  was  more  powerful  than  all  their 
rhetorical  discourse,  with  a man  who  still  inclined  to  the 
victorious  in  arms.  This  embassy,  having  obtained  the  resti- 
tution of  Messenia,  and  the  freedom  of  the  other  Greeks,  got 
Pelopidas  a great  deal  of  good-will  at  his  return. 

At  this  time,  Alexander  the  Pheraean  falling  back  to  his 
old  nature,  and  having  seized  m*any  of  the  Thessalian  cities, 
and  put  garrisons  upon  the  Achaeans  of  Phthiotis,  and  the 
Magnesians,  the  cities,  hearing  that  Pelopidas  was  returned, 
sent  an  embassy  to  Thebes,  requesting  succors,  and  him  for 
their  leader.  The  Thebans  willingly  granted  their  desire  ; 
and  now  when  ail  things  were  prepared,  and  the  general  be- 
ginning to  march,  the  sun  was  eclipsed,  and  darkness  spread 
over  the  city  at  noonday.  Now  when  Pelopidas  saw  them 
startled  at  the  prodigy,  he  did  not  think  it  fit  to  force  on  men 
who  were  afraid  and  out  of  heart,  nor  to  hazard  seven  thou- 
sand of  his  citizens ; and  therefore  with  only  three  hundred 
horse  vohmteers,  set  forward  himself  to  Thessaly,  much 
against  the  will  of  the  augurs  and  his  fellow-citizens  in  gen- 
eral, who  all  imagined  this  marked  portent  to  have  reference 
to  this  great  man.  But  he  was  heated  against  Alexander  for 
the  injuries  he  had  received,  and  hoped  likewise,  from  the 
discourse  which  formerly  he  had  with  Thebe,  that  his  family 
by  this  time  was  divided  and  in  disorder.  But  the  glory  of 
the  expedition  chiefly  excited  him  ; for  he  was  extremely  de- 
sirous at  this  time,  when  the  Lacedaemonians  were  sending 
out  military  officers  to  assist  Dionysius  the  Sicilian  tyrant, 
and  the  Athenians  took  Alexander’s  pay,  and  honored  him 
with  a brazen  statue  as  a benefactor,  that  the  Thebans  should 
be  seen,  alone,  of  all  the  Greeks,  undertaking  the  cause  of 
those  who  were  oppressed  by  tyrants,  and  destroying  the 
violent  and  illegal  forms  of  government  in  Greece. 

When  Pelopidas  was  come  to  Pharsalus,  he  formed  an 
army,  and  presently  marched  against  Alexander ; and  Alex- 
ander understanding  that  Pelopidas  had  few  Thebans  with 
him,  and  that  his  own  infantry  was  double  the  number  of 
the  Thessalians,  faced  him  at  Thetidium.  Some  ojee  told 
Pelopidas,  ‘‘The  tyrant  meets  us  with  a great  army  “ So 
much  the  better,”  he  replied,  “for  then  we  shall  overcome 
the  more.”  Between  the  two  armies  lay  some  steep  high  hills 
about  Cynoscephalae,  which  both  parties  endeavored  to  take 
by  their  foot.  Pelopidas  commanded  his  horse,  which  were 


PELOPIDAS. 


467 


good  and  many,  to'^charge  that  of  the  enemies  ; they  routed 
and  pursued  them  through  the  plain.  But  Alexander  mean 
time,  took  the  hills,  and  charging  the  Thessalian  foot  that 
came  up  later,  and  strove  to  climb  the  steep  and  craggy  as- 
cent, killed  the  foremost,  and  the  others,  much  distressed, 
could  do  the  enemies  no  harm.  Pelopidas,  observing  this, 
sounded  a retreat  to  his  horse,  and  gave  orders  that  they 
sh'Ould  charge  the  enemies  that  kept  their  ground ; and  he 
himself,  taking  his  shield,  quickly  joined  those  that  fought 
about  the  hills,  and  advancing  to  the  front,  filled  his  men  with 
such  courage  and  alacrity,  that  the  enemies  imagined  they 
came  with  other  spirits  and  other  bodies  to  the  onset.  They 
stood  two  or  three  charges,  but  Ending  these  come  on  stoutly, 
and  the  horse,  also,  returning  from  the  pursuit,  gave  ground, 
and  retreated  in  order.  Pelopidas  now  perceiving,  from  the 
I rising  ground,  that  the  enemy’s  army  was,  though  not  yet 
I routed,  full  of  disorder  and  confusion,  stood  and  looked  about 
for  Alexander  ; and  when  he  saw  him  in  the  right  wing,  en- 
couraging and  ordering  his  mercenaries,  he  could  not  moder- 
ate his  anger,  but  inflamed  at  the  sight,  and  blindly  following 
his  passion,  regardless  alike  of  his  own  life  and  his  command, 
advanced  far  before  his  soldiers,  crying  out  and  challenging 
the  tyrant  who  did  not  dare  to  receive  him,  but  retreating, 
hid  himself  amongst  his  guard.  The  foremost  of  the  mer- 
cenaries that  came  hand  to  hand  were  driven  back  by  Pelopi- 
das, and  some  killed  ; but  many  at  a distance  shot  through 
his  armor  and  wounded  him,  till  the  Thessalians,  in  anxiety 
for  the  result,  ran  down  from  the  hill  to  his  relief,  but  found 
him  already  slain.  The  horse  came  up,  also,  and  routed  the 
phalanx,  and  following  the  pursuit  a great  way,  filled  the 
whole  country  with  the  slain,  which  were  above  three  thou- 
sand. 

No  one  can  wonder  that  the  Thebans  then  present,  should 
show  great  grief  at  the  death  of  Pelopidas,  calling  him  their 
father,  deliverer,  and  instructor  in  all  that  was  good  and 
commendable.  But  the  Thessalians  and  the  allies,  out-doing 
HI  their  public  edicts  all  the  just  honors  that  could  be  paid  to 
human  courage,  gave,  in  their  display  of  feeling,  yet  stronger 
demonstrations  of  the  kindness  they  had  for  him.  It  is 
stated,  that  none  of  the  soldiers,  when  they  heard  of  his  death, 
would  put  off  their  armor,  unbridle  their  horses,  or  dress 
their  wounds,  but  still  hot  and  with  their  arms  on,  ran  to  the 
corpse,  and,  as  if  he  had  been  yet  alive  and  could  see  what 
they  did,  heaped  up  spoils  about  his  body.  They  cut  off 


468 


PELOPIDIAS. 


their  horses^  manes  and  their  own  hair,  many  kindled  no  fire 
in  their  tents,  took  no  supper,  and  silence  and  sadness  was 
spread  over  all  the  army  ; as  if  they  had  not  gained  the 
greatest  and  most  glorious  victory,  but  w’ere  overcome  by  the 
tyrant,  and  enslaved.  As  soon  as  it  was  known  in  the  cities, 
the  magistrates,  youths,  children,  and  priests,  came  out  to 
meet  the  body,  and  brought  trophies,  crowns,  and  suits  of  gold- 
en armor ; and,  when  he  was  to  be  interred,  the  elders  of  the 
Idiessalians  came  and  begged  the  Thebans,  that  they  might 
give  the  funeral  ; and  one  of  them  said,  ^‘Friends,  we  ask  a 
favor  of  you,  that  will  prove  both  an  honor  and  comfort  to  us 
in  this  our  great  misfortune.  The  Thessalians  shall  never 
again  w^ait  on  the  living  Pelopidas,  shall  never  give  honors, 
of  \vhich  he  can  be  sensible,  but  if  we  may  have  his  body, 
adorn  his  funeral,  and  inter  him,  we  shall  hope  to  show,  that 
we  esteem  his  death  a greater  loss  to  the  Thessalians  than 
to  the  Thebans.  You  have  lost  only  a good  general,  we  both 
a general  and  our  liberty.  For  how  shadl  we  dare  to  desire 
from  you  another  captain,  since  we  cannot  restore  Pelop- 
idas } ” 

The  Thebans  granted  their  request,  and  there  was  never 
a more  splendid  funeral  in  the  opinion  of  those  who  do  not 
think  the  glory  of  such  solemnities  consists  only  in  gold,  ivory, 
and  purple  ; as  Philistus  did,  who  extravagantly  celebrates 
the  funeral  of  Dionysius,  in  which  his  tyranny  concluded  like 
the  pompous  exit  of  some  great  tragedy.  Alexander  the 
Great,  at  the  death  of  Hephaestion,  not  only  cut  off  the  manes 
of  his  horses  and  his  mules,  but  took  down  the  battlements 
from  the  city  w^alls,  that  even  the  towns  might  seem  mourners, 
and  instead  of  their  former  beauteous  appearance,  look  bald 
at  his  funeral.  But  such  honors,  being  commanded  and 
forced  from  the  mourners,  attended  with  feelings  of  jealousy 
towards  those  who  received  them,  and  of  hatred  towards  those 
who  exacted  them,  were  no  testimonies  of  love  and  respect, 
but  of  the  barbaric  pride,  luxury,  and  insolence  of  those  who 
lavished  their  wealth  in  these  vain  and  undesirable  displays. 
But  that  a man  of  common  rank,  dying  in  a strange  country, 
neither  his  wife,  children,  nor  kinsmen  present,  none  either 
asking  or  compelling  it,  should  be  attended,  buried,  and 
c?.  ;wmed  by  so  many  cities  that  strove  to  exceed  one  another 
in  the  demonstrations  of  their  love,  seems  to  be  the  sum  and 
completion  of  happy  fortune.  For  the  death  of  happy  men  is 
not,  as  ^sop  observes,  most  grievous,  but  most  blessed,  since 
it  secures  their  felicity,  and  puts  it  out  of  fortune’s  power. 


PELOPIDAS. 


469 


And  thal  Spartan  advised  well,  who,  embracing  Diagoras,  that 
had  himself  been  crowned  in  the  Olympic  Games,  and  saw 
his  sons  and  grandchildren  victors,  said,  “ Die,  Diagoras,  for 
thou  canst  not  be  a god/^  And  yet  who  would  compare  all 
the  victories  in  the  Pythian  and  Olympian  Games  put  to- 
gether, wkh  one  of  those  enterprises  of  Pelopidas,  of  which 
he  successfully  performed  so  many?  Having  spent  his  life 
in  brave  and  glorious  actions,  he  died  at  last  in  the  chief 
command,  for  the  thirteenth  time,  of  the  Boeotians,  fighting 
bravely  and  in  the  act  of  slaying  a tyrant,  in  defence  of  the 
liberty  of  the  Thessalians. 

His  death,  as  it  brought  grief,  so  likewise  it  produced 
advantage  to  the  allies  ; for  the  Thebans,  as  soon  as  they 
heard  of  his  fall  delayed  not  their  revenge,  but  presently  sent 
seven  thousand  foot  and  seven  hundred  horse,  under  the 
command  of  Malcitas  and  Diogiton.  And  they,  finding  Alex- 
ander weak  and  without  forces,  compelled  him  to  restore  the 
cities  he  had  taken,  to  withdraw  his  garrisons  from  the  Mag- 
nesians  and  Achaeans  of  Phthiotis,  and  swear  to  assist  the 
Thebans  against  whatsoever  enemies  they  should  require. 
This  contented  the  Thebans,  but  punishment  overtook  the 
tyrant  for  his  wickedness,  and  the  death  of  Pelopidas  was  re- 
venged by  Heaven  in  the  following  manner.  Pelopidas,  as  I 
have  already  mentioned,  had  taught  his  wife  Thebe  not  to 
fear  the  outward  splendor  and  show  of  the  tyrant’s  defences, 
since  she  was  admitted  within  them.  She,  of  herself,  too, 
dreaded  his  inconstancy,  and  hated  his  cruelty  ; and  there- 
fore, conspiring  with  her  three  brothers,  Tisiphonus,  Pytho- 
laus,  and  Lycophron,  made  the  following  attempt  upon  him. 
All  the  other  apartments  were  full  of  the  tyrant’s  night  guards, 
but  their  bed-chamber  was  an  upper  room,  and  before  the 
door  lay  a chained  dog  to  guard  it,  which  would  fly  at  all  but 
the  tyrant  and  his  wife  and  one  servant  that  fed  him.  When 
Thebe,  therefore,  designed  to  kill  her  husband,  she  hid  her 
brothers  all  day  in  a room  hard  by,  and  she,  going  in  alone, 
according  to  her  usual  custom,  to  Alexander,  who  was  asleep 
already,  in  a little  time  came  out  again,  and  commanded  the 
servant  to  lead  away  the  dog,  for  Alexander  wished  to  rest 
quietly.  She  covered  the  stairs  with  wool,  that  the  young 
men  might  make  no  noise  as  they  came  up  ; and  then,  bring- 
ing up  her  brothers  with  their  weapons,  and  leaving  them  at 
the  chamber  door,  she  went  in,  and  brought  away  the  tyrant’s 
sword  that  hung  over  his  head,  and  showed  it  them  for  a 
confirmation  that  he  was  fast  asleep.  The  young  men  ap' 


470 


MARCELLUS. 


pearing  fearful,  and  unwilling  to  do  the  murder,  she  chid  them, 
and  angrily  vowed  she  would  wake  Alexander,  and  discover 
the  conspiracy  ; and  so,  with  a lamp  in  her  hand,  she  con- 
ducted them  in,  they  being  both  ashamed  and  afraid,  and 
broiight  them  to  the  bed ; when  one  of  them  caught  him 
by  tlie  feet,  the  other  pulled  him  backwards  by  the  hair^ 
ind  the  third  ran  him  through.  The  death  was  more 
speedy,  perhaps,  than  was  fit ; but,  in  that  he  was  the  first 
tyrant  that  was  killed  by  the  contrivance  of  his  wife,  and  as 
hi^  corpse  was  abused,  thrown  out,  and  trodden  under  foot  by 
the  Pheraeans,  he  seems  to  have  suffered  what  his  villanies 
deserved. 


MARCELLUS. 


They  say  that  Marcus  Claudius,  who  was  five  times 
consul  of  the  Romans,  was  the  son  of  Marcus  ; and  that  he 
was  th^  first  of  his  family  called  Marcellus  ; that  is,  martial^ 
as  Posidonius  affirms.  He  was,  indeed,  by  long  experience^ 
skilful  in  the  art  of  war,  of  a strong  body,  valiant  of  hand, 
and  by  natural  inclinations  addicted  to  war.  This  high  tem- 
per and  heat  he  showed  conspicuously  in  battle  \ in  other 
respects  he  was  modest  and  obliging,  and  so  far  studious  of 
Greek  learning  and  discipline,  as  to  honor  and  admire  those 
that  excelled  in  it,  though  he  did  not  himself  attain  a pro- 
ficiency in  them  equal  to  his  desire,  by  reason  of  his  employ- 
ments. For  if  ever  there  v/ere  any  men,  whom,  as  Plomer 
says.  Heaven — 

From  their  first  youth  unto  their  utmost  age 

Appointed  the  laborious  wars  to  wage, 

certainly  they  were  the  chief  Romans  of  that  time  ; who  in 
their  youth  had  war  with  the  Carthaginians  in  Sicily,  in  their 
middle  age  with  the  Gauls  in  the  defence  of  Italy  itself  ; and, 
at  last,  when  now  grown  old,  struggled  again  with  Hannibal 
and  the  Carthaginians,  and  wanted  in  their  latest  years  what 
is  granted  to  most  men,  exemption  from  military  toils  ; 
their  rank  and  their  great  qualities  still  making  them  be 
called  upon  to  undertake  the  command. 

Marcellus,  ignoiant  or  unskilful  of  no  kind  of  fighting,  in 
single  combat  surpassed  himself ; he  never  declined  a chal 


MARCELLUS. 


471 


lenge,  and  never  accepted  without  killing  his  challenger.  In 
Sicily,  he  protected  and  saved  his  brother  Otacilius  when 
surrounded  in  battle,  and  slew  the  enemies  that  pressed  upon 
him  ; for  which  act  he  was  by  the  generals,  while  he  was  yet 
but  young,  presented  with  crowns  and  other  honorable  re- 
wards ; and,  his  good  qualities  more  and  more  displaying 
themselves,  he  was  created  Curule  ^dile  by  the  people  and 
by  the  high-priests  Augur ; which  is  that  priesthood  to  which 
chiefly  the  law  assigns  the  observation  of  auguries.  In  his 
sedileship,  a certain  mischance  brought  him  to  the  necessity 
of  bringing  an  impeachment  into  the  senate.  He  had  a son 
named  Marcus,  of  great  beauty,  in  the  flower  of  his  age,  and 
no  less  admired  for  the  goodness  of  his  character.  This 
youth,  Capitolinus,  a bold  and  ill-mannered  man,  Marcellus’s 
colleague,  sought  to  abuse.  The  boy  at  first  himself  repelled 
him  ; but  when  the  other  again  persecuted  him,  told  his 
father.  Marcellus,  highly  indignant,  accused  the  man  in  the 
senate : where  he,  having  appealed  to  the  tribunes  of  the  peo- 
ple, endeavored  by  various  shifts  and  exceptions  to  elude  the 
impeachment ; and,  when  the  tribunes  refused  their  protec- 
tion, by  flat  denial  rejected  the  charge.  As  there  was  no 
witness  of  the  fact,  the  senate  thought  fit  to  call  the  youth 
himself  before  them  : on  witnessing  whose  blushes  and  tears, 
and  shame  mixed  with  the  highest  indignation,  seeking  no 
further  evidence  of  the  crime,  they  condemned  Capitolinus, 
and  set  a fine  upon  him  ; of  the  money  of  which,  Marcellus 
caused  silver  vessels  for  libation  to  be  made,  which  he  dedi- 
cated to  the  gods. 

After  the  end  of  the  first  Punic  war,  which  lasted  dne  and 
twenty  years,  the  seeds  of  Gallic  tumults  sprang  up,  and 
began  again  to  trouble  Rome.  The  Insubrians,  a people 
inhabiting  the  subalpine  region  of  Italy,  strong  in  their  own 
forces,  raised  from  among  the  other  Gauls  aids  of  mercenary 
soldiers,  called  Gaesatae.  And  it  was  a sort  of  miracle,  and 
special  good  fortune  for  Rome,  that  the  Gallic  war  was  not 
joincident  with  the  Punic,  but  that  the  Gauls  had  with  fidelity 
»itood  quiet  as  spectators,  while  the  Punic  war  continued,  as 
though  they  had  been  under  engagements  to  await  and  attack 
the  victors,  and  now  only  were  at  liberty  to  come  forward. 
Still  the  position  itself,  and  the  ancient  renown  of  the  Gauls, 
struck  no  little  fear  into  the  minds  of  the  Romans,  who  were 
about  to  undertake  a war  so  near  home  and  upon  their  own 
borders  ; and  regarded  the  Gauls,  because  they  had  once 
taken  their  city,  with  more  apprehension  than  any  people, 


472 


MARCELLUS. 


as  is  apparent  from  the  enactment  which  from  that  time  forth 
provided,  that  the  high-priests  should  enjoy  an  exemption  from 
all  military  duty,  except  only  in  Gallic  insurrections. 

The  great  preparations,  also,  made  by  the  Romans  for 
war  (for  it  is  not  reported  that  the  people  of  Rome  ever  had 
at  one  time  so  many  legions  in  arms,  either  before  or  since), 
and  their  extraordinary  sacrifices,  were  plain  arguments  of 
their  fear.  For  though  they  were  most  averse  to  barbarous 
and  cruel  rites,  and  entertained  more  than  any  nation  the 
same  pious  and  reverent  sentiments  of  the  gods  with  the 
Greeks  ; yet,  when  this  war  was  coming  upon  them,  they  then, 
from  some  prophecies  in  the  Sibyls’  books,  put  alive  under 
ground  a pair  of  Greeks,  one  male,  the  other  female ; and 
likewise  two  Gauls,  one  of  each  sex,  in  the  market  called  the 
beast  market : continuing  even  to  this  day  to  offer  to  these 
Greeks  and  Gauls  certain  ceremonial  observances  in  the 
month  of  November. 

In  the  beginning  of  this  war,  in  which  the  Romans  some- 
times obtained  remarkable  victories,  sometimes  were  shame- 
fully beaten,  nothing  was  done  toward  the  determination  of 
the  contest,  until  Flaminius  and  Furius,  being  consuls,  led 
large  forces  against  the  Insubrians.  At  the  time  of  their 
departure,  the  river  that  runs  through  the  country  of  Prcenum 
was  seen  flowing  with  blood ; there  was  a report,  that  three 
moons  had  been  seen  at  once  at  Ariminum ; and,  in  the  con- 
sular assembly,  the  augurs  declared,  that  the  consuls  had  been 
unduly  and  inauspiciously  created.  The  senate,  therefore, 
immediately  sent  letters  to  the  camp,  recalling  the  consuls  to 
Rome  with  all  possible  speed,  and  commanding  them  to  for- 
bear from  acting  against  the  enemies,  and  to  abdicate  the 
consulship  on  the  first  opportunity.  These  letters  being 
brought  to  Flaminius,  he  deferred  to  open  them  till,  having 
defeated  and  put  to  flight  the  enemy’s  forces,  he  wasted  and 
ravaged  their  borders.  The  people,  therefore,  did  not  go 
^forth  to  meet  him  when  he  returned  with  huge  spoils  ; nay, 
because  he  had  not  instantly  obeyed  the  command  in  the 
letters,  by  which  he  was  recalled,  but  slighted  and  contemned 
them,  they  were  very  near  denying  him  the  honor  of  a triumph. 
Nor  was  the  triumph  sooner  passed  than  they  deposed  him, 
with  his  colleague,  from  the  magistracy,  and  reduced  them  to 
the  state  of  private  citizens.  So  much  were  all  things  at 
Rome  made  to  depend  upon  religion  ; they  would  not  allow 
any  contempt  of  the  omens  and  the  ancient  rites,  even  though 
attended  with  the  highest  success  : thinking  it  to  be  of  more 


MARCELLUS. 


473 


importance  to  the  public  safety,  that  the  magistrates  should 
reverence  the  gods,  than  that  they  should  overcome  their 
enemies.  Thus  Tiberius  Sempronius,  whom  for  his  probity 
and  virtue  the  citizens  highly  esteemed,  created  Scipio  Nasica 
and  Caius  Marcius,  consuls  to  succeed  him  : and  when  they 
were  gone  into  their  provinces,  lit  upon  books  concerning  the 
religious  observances,  where  he  found  something  he  had  not 
known  before ; which  was  this.  When  the  consul  took  his 
auspices,  he  sat  without  the  city  in  a house,  or  tent,  hired  for 
that  occasion  ; but,  if  it  happened  that  he,  for  any  urgent 
cause,  returned  into  the  city,  without  having  yet  seen  any 
certain  signs,  he  was  obliged  to  leave  that  first  building,  or 
tent,  and  to  seek  another  to  repeat  the  survey  from.  Tiberius, 
it  appears,  in  ignorance  of  this,  had  twice  used  the  same  build- 
ing before  announcing  the  new  consuls.  Now,  understanding 
his  error,  he  referred  the  matter  to  the  senate  : nor  did  the 
senate  neglect  this  minute  fault,  but  soon  wrote  expressly  of 
it  to  Scipio  Nasica  and  Caius  Marcius  ; who,  leaving  their 
provinces  and  without  delay  returning  to  Rome,  laid  down 
their  magistracy.  This  happened  at  a later  period.  About 
the  same  time,  too,  the  priesthood  was  taken  away  from  two 
men  of  very  great  honor,  Cornelius  Cethegus  and  Quintus 
Sulpicius : from  the  former,  because  he  had  not  rightly  held 
out  the  entrails  of  a 'beast  slain  for  sacrifice  ; from  the  latter, 
because,  while  he  was  immolating,  the  tufted  cap  which  the 
Flamens  wear  had  fallen  from  his  head.  Minucius,  the  dic- 
tator, who  had  already  named  Caius  Flaminius  master  of  the 
horse,  they  deposed  from  his  command,  because  the  squeak  of 
a mouse  was  heard,  and  put  others  into  their  places.  And 
yet,  notwithstanding,  by  observing  so  anxiously  these  little 
niceties  they  did  not  run  into  any  superstition,  because  they 
never  varied  from  nor  exceeded  the  observances  of  their 
ancestors. 

So  soon  as  Flaminius  with  his  colleague  had  resigned  the 
consulate,  Marcellus  was  declared  consul  by  the  presiding 
officers  called  Interrexes  ; and,  entering  into  the  magistracy, 
chose  Cnaeus  Cornelius  his  colleague.  There  was  a report 
that,  the  Gauls  proposing  a pacification,  and  the  senate  also 
mcliiiing  to  peace,  Marcellus  inflamed  the  people  to  war  ; but 
a peace  appears  to  have  been  agreed  upon,  which  the  Gaesatae 
broke;  who,  passing  the  Alps,  stirred  up  the  Insubrians  (they 
being  thirty  thousand  in  number,  and  the  Insubrians  more 
numerous  by  far  ) ; and  proud  of  their  strength,  marched  direct- 
ly to  Acerrae,  a city  seated  on  the  north  of  the  river  Pa 


474 


MARCELLUS. 


From  thence  Britomartus,  king  of  the  Gaesatas,  taking  with  him 
ten  thousand  soldiers,  harassed  the  country  round  about. 
News  of  which  being  brought  to  Marcellus,  leaving  his  col- 
league at  Acerrae  with  the  foot  and  all  the  heavy  arms  and  a 
third  part  of  the  horse,  and  carrying  with  him  the  rest  of  the 
horse  and  six  hundred  light  armed  foot,  marching  night  and 
day  without  remission,  he  staid  not  till  he  came  up  to  these 
ten  thousand  near  a Gaulish  village  called  Clastidium,  which 
not  long  before  had  been  reduced  under  the  Roman  jurisdic- 
tion. Nor  had  he  time  to  refresh  his  soldiers,  or  to  give  them 
rest.  For  the  barbarians,  that  were  then  present,  immediate- 
ly observed  his  approach,  and  contemned  him,  because  he  had 
very  few  foot  with  him.  The  Gauls  were  singularly  skilful  in 
horsemanship,  and  thought  to  excel  in  it ; and  as  at  present 
they  also  exceeded  Marcellus  in  number,  they  made  no 
account  of  him.  They,  therefore,  with  their  king  at  their  head, 
instantly  charged  upon  him,  as  if  they  would  trample  him 
under  their  horses’  feet,  threatening  all  kind  of  cruelties. 
Marcellus,  because  his  men  were  few,  that  they  might  not  be 
encompassed  and  charged  on  all  sides  by  the  enemy,  extended 
his  wings  of  1 orse,  and,  riding  about,  drew  out  his  wings  of 
foot  in  length,  till  he  came  near  to  the  enemy.  Just  as  he 
was  in  the  act  of  turning  round  to  face  the  enemy,  it  so  hap- 
pened that  his  horse,  startled  with  their  fierce  look  and  their 
cries,  gave  back,  and  carried  him  forcibly  aside.  Fearing  lest 
this  accident,  if  converted  into  an  omen,  might  discourage  his 
soldiers,  he  quickly  brought  his  horse  round  to  confront  the 
enemy,  and  made  a gesture  of  adoration  to  the  sun,  as  if  he  had 
wheeled  about  not  by  chance,  but  for  a purpose  of  devotion. 
For  it  was  customary  to  the  Romans,  when  they  offered  wor- 
ship to  the  gods,  to  turn  round ; and  in  this  moment  of  meet- 
ing the  enemy,  he  is  said  to  have  vowed  the  best  of  the  arms 
to  Jupiter  Feretrius. 

The  king  of  the  Gauls  beholding  Marcellus,  and  from  the 
badges  of  his  authority  conjecturing  hiu  to  be  the  general^ 
advanced  some  way  before  his  embattled  army,  and  with  a 
loud  voice  challenged  him,  and,  brandishing  his  lance,  fiercely 
ran  in  full  career  at  him  ; exceeding  the  rest  of  the  Gauls  in 
stature,  and  with  his  armor,  that  was  adorned  with  gold  and 
silver  and  various  colors,  shining  like  lightning.  These  arms 
seeming  to  Marcellus,  while  he  viewed  the  enemy’s  arm}' 
drawn  up  in  battalia,  to  be  the  best  and  fairest,  and  thinking 
them  to  be  those  he  had  vowed  to  Jupiter,  he  instantly  ran 
upon  the  king,  and  pierced  through  his  breastplate  with  his 


MARCELLUS. 


475 


lance  ; then  pressing  upon  him  with  the  weight  of  his  horse, 
threw  him  to  the  ground,  and  with  two  or  three  strokes  more, 
slew  him.  Immediately  he  leapt  from  his  horse,  laid  his  hand 
upon  the  dead  king’s  arms,  and,  looking  up  towards  Heaven, 
thus  spoke  : ‘‘ O Jupiter  Feretrius,  arbiter  of  the  exploits  of 
captains,  and  of  the  acts  of  commanders  in  war  and  battlcS; 
be  thou  witness  that  I,  a general,  have  slain  a general  : I,  a 
consul,  have  slain  a king  with  my  own  hand,  third  of  all  the 
Romans  ; and  that  to  thee  1 consecrate  these  first  and  most 
excellent  of  the  spoils.  Grant  to  us  to  dispatch  the  relics  of 
the  war,  with  the  same  course  of  fortune.”  Then  the  Roman 
horse  joining  battle  not  only  with  the  enemy’s  horse,  but  also 
with  the  foot  who  attacked  them,  obtained  a singular  and  un- 
heard of  victory.  For  never  before  or  since  have  so  few 
horse  defeated  such  numerous  forces  of  horse  and  foot  to- 
gether. The  enemies  being  to  a great  number  slain,  and  the 
spoils  collected,  he  returned  to  his  colleague,  who  was  conduct- 
ing the  war,  with  ill  success,  against  the  enemies  near  the 
greatest  and  most  populous  of  the  Galic  cities,  Milan.  This 
was  their  capital,  and,  therefore,  fighting  valiantly  in  defence 
of  it,  they  were  not  so  much  besieged  by  Cornelius,  as  they 
besieged  him.  But  Marcellus  having  returned,  and  the 
Gaesatae  retiring  as  soon  as  they  were  certified  of  the  death 
of  the  king  and  the  defeat  of  his  army,  Milan  was  taken.  The 
rest  of  their  towns,  and  all  they  had,  the  Gauls  delivered 
up  of  their  own  accord  to  the  Romans,  and  had  peace 
upon  equitable  conditions  granted  to  them. 

Marcellus  alone,  by  a decree  of  the  senate,  triumphed. 
The  triumph  was  in  magnificence,  opulence,  spoils,  and  the 
gigantic  bodies  of  the  captives  most  remarkable.  But  the 
most  grateful  and  most  rare  spectacle  of  all  was  the  general 
himself,  carrying  the  arms  of  the  barbarian  king  to  the  god  to 
whom  he  had  vowed  them.  He  had  taken  a tall  and  straight 
stock  of  an  oak,  and  had  lopped  and  formed  it  to  a trophy. 
Upon  this  he  fastened  and  hung  about  the  arms  of  the  king, 
arranging  all  the  pieces  in  their  suitable  places.  The  pro- 
cession advancing  solemnly,  he,  carrying  this  trophy,  ascended 
'.he  chariot ; and  thus,  himself  the  fairest  and  most  glorious 
triumphant  image,  was  conveyed  into  the  city.  The  army 
adorned  with  shining  armor  followed  in  order,  and  with 
verses  compDsed  for  the  occasion,  and  with  songs  of  victory 
celebrated  the  praises  of  Jupiter  and  of  their  general.  Then 
entering  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Feretrius,  he  dedicated  his 
gift ; the  third,  and  to  our  memory  the  last,  that  ever  did  so. 


4.76 


MARCELLUS. 


The  first  was  Romulus,  after  having  slain  Acron,  king  of  thfi 
Cseninenses : the  second,  Cornelius  Cossus,  who  slew  Tolum- 
nius  the  Etruscan : aftej  them  Marcellus.  having  killed 
Britomartus  king  of  the  Gauls  ; after  Marcellus,  no  man.  The 
god  to  whom  these  spoils  were  consecrated  is  called  Jupiter 
Feretrms,  from  the  trophy  carried  on  the  feretrum^  one  of  the 
Greek  words  which  at  that  time  still  existed  in  great  numbers 
in  Latin : or,  as  others  say,  it  is  the  surname  of  the  Thundering 
Jupiter,  derived  from  ferire^  to  strike.  Others  there  are  who 
would  have  the  name  to  be  deduced  from  the  strokes  that  are 
given  in  fight ; since,  even  now  in  battles,  when  they  press 
upon  their  enemies,  they  constantly  call  out  to  each  other, 
strike^  in  Latin, Spoils  in  general  they  call  Spolia,  and 
these  in  particular  Opima ; though,  indeed,  they  say  that 
Numa  Pompilius,  in  his  commentaries,  makes  mention  of  first, 
second,  and  third  Spolia  Opima ; and  that  he  prescribes  that 
the  first  taken  be  consecrated  to  Jupiter  Feretrius,  the  second 
to  Mars,  the  third  to  Quirinus  ; as  also  that  the  reward  of  the 
first  be  three  hundred  asses  ; of  the  second,  two  hundred ; of 
the  third,  one  hundred.  The  general  account,  however,  pre- 
vails, that  those  spoils  only  are  Opima,  which  the  general  first 
takes  in  set  battle,  and  takes  from  the  enemy^s  chief  captain 
whom  he  has  slain  with  his  own  hand.  But  of  this  enough. 
The  victory  and  the  ending  of  the  war  was  so  welcome  to  the 
people  of  Rome,  that  they  sent  to  Apollo  of  Delphi,  in  testi- 
mony of  their  gratitude,  a present  of  a golden  cup  of  an  hun- 
dred pound  weight,  and  gave  a great  part  of  the  spoil  to  their 
associate  cities,  and  took  care  that  many  presents  should  be 
sent  also  to  Hiero,  king  of  the  Syracusans,  their  friend  and 
ally. 

When  Hannibal  invaded  Italy,  Marcellus  w^as  despatched 
with  a fleet  to  Sicily.  And  when  the  army  had  been  de- 
feated at  Cannae,  and  many  thousands  of  them  perished,  and 
few  had  saved  themselves  by  flying  to  Canusium,  and  all 
feared  lest  Hannibal,  who  had  destroyed  the  strength  of  the 
Roman  army,  should  advance  at  once  with  his  victorious 
troops  to  Rome,  Marcellus  first  sent  for  the  protection  of  the 
city  fifteen  hundred  soldiers  from  the  fleet.  Then,  by  decree 
of  the  senate,  going  to  Canusium,  having  heard  that  many 
of  the  soldiers  had  come  together  in  that  place,  he  led  them 
out  of  the  fortifications  to  prevent  the  enemy  from  ravaging 
the  country.  The  chief  Roman  commanders  had  most  of 
them  fallen  in  battles  ; and  the  citizens  complained  that  the 
extreme  caution  of  Fabius  Maximus,  whose  integrity  and 


MARCELLUS. 


477 


wisdom  gave  him  the  highest  authority,  verged  upon  timidity 
and  inaction.  They  confided  in  him  to  keep  them  out  of 
danger,  but  could  not  expect  that  he  would  enable  them  to  re- 
taliate. Fixing,  therefore,  their  thoughts  upon  Marcellus, 
and  hoping  to  combine  his  boldness,  confidence,  and  promp- 
titude with  Fabius^s  caution  and  prudence,  and  to  temper  the 
one  by  the  other,  they  sent,  sometimes  both  with  consular 
command,  sometimes  one  as  consul,  the  other  a^  proconsul 
against  the  enemy.  Posidonius  writes,  that  Fabius  was  called 
the  buckler,  Marcellus  the  sword  of  Rome.  Certainly,  Han- 
nibal himself  confessed  that  he  feared  Fabius  as  a school- 
master, Marcellus  as  an  adversary  : the  former,  lest  he  should 
be  hindered  from  doing  mischief ; the  latter,  lest  he  should 
receive  harm  himself. 

And  first,  when  among  Hannibal’s  soldiers,  proud  of  their 
victory,  carelessness  and  boldness  had  grown  to  a great 
height,  Marcellus,  attacking  all  their  stragglers  and  plunder- 
ing parties,  cut  them  off,  and  by  little  and  little  diminished 
their  forces.  Then  carrying  aid  to  the  Neapolitans  and 
Nolans,  he  confirmed  the  minds  of  the  former,  who,  indeed, 
were  of  their  own  accord  faithful  enough  to  the  Romans  ; but 
in  Nola  he  found  a state  of  discord,  the  senate  not  being  able 
to  rule  and  keep  in  the  common  people,  who  were  generally 
favorers  of  Hannibal.  There  was  in  the  town  one  Bantius,  a 
man  renowned  for  his  high  birth  and  courage.  This  man, 
after  he  had  fought  most  fiercely  at  Cannae,  and  had  killed 
many  of  the  enemies,  at  last  was  found  lying  in  a heap  of  dead 
bodies,  covered  with  darts,  and  was  brought  to  Hannibal,  who 
so  honored  him,  that  he  not  only  dismissed  him  without  ran- 
som, but  also  contracted  friendship  with  him,  and  made  him 
his  guest.  In  gratitude  for  this  great  favor,  he  became  one 
of  the  strongest  partisans  of  Hannibal,  and  urged  the  people 
to  revolt.  Marcellus  could  not  be  induced  to  put  to  death  a 
man  of  such  eminence,  and  who  had  endured  such  dangers 
in  fighting  on  the  Roman  side  ; but,  knowing  himself  able, 
by  the  general  kindliness  of  his  disposition,  and  in  particular 
by  the  attractiveness  of  his  address,  to  gain  over  a character 
whose  passion  was  for  honor,  one  day  when  Bantius  saluted 
him,  he  asked  him  who  he  was  ; not  that  he  knew  him  not 
before,  but  seeking  an  occasion  of  further  conference.  When 
Bantius  had  told  who  he  was,  Marcellus,  seeming  surprised 
with  joy  and  wonder,  replied:  ‘‘Are  you  that  Bantius  whom 
the  Romans  commend  above  the  rest  that  fought  at  Cannae, 
and  praise  as  the  one  man  that  not  only  did  not  forsake  the 


478 


MARCELLUS. 


consul  Paulus  ^milius,  but  received  in  his  own  body  many 
darts  thrown  at  him  ? ’’  Bantius  owning  himself  to  be  that 
very  man,  and  showing  his  scars  : Why,  then,’’  said  Marcel- 
lus,  “ did  not  you,  having  such  proofs  to  show  of  your  affec- 
tion to  us,  come  to  me  at  my  first  arrival  here  ? Do  you  think 
that  we  are  unwilling  to  requite  with  favor  those  who  have 
well  deserved,  and  who  are  honored  even  by  our  enemies  ? ” 
He  followed  up  his  courtesies  by  a present  of  a war  horse^ 
and  five  hundred  drachmas  in  money.  From  that  time  Bantius 
became  the  most  faithful  assistant  and  ally  of  Marcellus,  and 
a most  keen  discoverer  of  those  that  attempted  innovation 
and  sedition. 

These  were  many,  and  had  entered  into  a conspiracy  to 
plunder  the  baggage  of  the  Romans,  when  they  should  make 
an  irruption  against  the  enemy.  Marcellus,  therefore,  having 
marshalled  his  army  within  the  city,  placed  the  baggage  near 
to  the  gates,  and,  by  an  edict,  forbade  the  Nolans  to  go  to  the 
walls.  Thus,  outside  the  city,  no  arms  could  be  seen  ; by 
which  prudent  device  he  allured  Hannibal  to  move  with  his 
army  in  some  disorder  to  the  city,  thinking  that  things  were 
in  a tumult  there.  Then  Marcellus,  the  nearest  gate  being, 
as  he  had  commanded,  thrown  open,  issuing  forth  with  the 
flower  of  his  horse  in  front,  charged  the  enemy.  By  and  by 
the  foot,  sallying  out  of  another  gate,  with  a loud  shout 
joined  in  the  battle.  And  while  Hannibal  opposes  part  of 
his  forces  to  these,  the  third  gate  also  is  opened,  out  of  which 
the  rest  break  forth,  and  on  all  quarters  fall  upon  the  enemies, 
who  were  dismayed  at  this  unexpected  encounter,  and  did  but 
feebly  resist  those  with  whom  they  had  been  first  engaged, 
because  of  their  attack  by  these  others  who  sallied  out  later. 
Here  Hannibal’s  soldiers,  with  much  bloodshed  and  many 
wounds,  were  beaten  back  to  their  camp,  and  for  the  first  time 
turned  their  backs  to  the  Romans.  There  fell  in  this  action, 
as  it  is  related,  more  than  five  thousand  of  them  ; of  the 
Romans,  not  above  five  hundred.  Livy  does  not  affirm,  that 
either  the  victory  or  the  slaughter  of  the  enemy  was  so  great ; 
but  certain  it  is,  that  the  adventure  brought  great  glory 
to  Marcellus,  and  to  the  Romans,  after  their  calamities,  a 
great  revival  of  confidence,  as  they  began  now  to  entertain 
a hope  that  the  enemy  with  whom  they  contended  was  not  in- 
vincible, but  liable  like  themselves  to  defeats. 

Therefore,  the  other  consul  being  deceased,  the  people 
recalled  Marcellus,  that  they  might  put  him  into  his  place  ; 
and,  in  spite  of  the  magistrates,  succeeded  in  postponing  th^ 


MARCELLUS. 


479 


election  till  his  arrival,  when  he  was  by  all  the  suffrages  cre- 
ated consul.  But  because  it  happened  to  thunder,  the  augurs 
accounting  that  he  was  not  legitimately  created,  and  yet  not 
daring,  for  fear  of  the  people,  to  declare  their  sentence  openly, 
Marcellus  voluntarily  resigned  the  consulate,  retaining  how- 
ever his  command.  Being  created  proconsul,  and  returning 
to  the  camp  at  Nola,  he  proceeded  to  harass  those  that  fol- 
lowed the  party  of  the  Carthaginian  ; on  whose  coming  with 
speed  to  succor  them,  Marcellus  declined  a challenge  to  a sej, 
battle,  but  when  Hannibal  had  sent  out  a party  to  plunder, 
and  now  expected  no  fight,  he  broke  out  upon  him  with  his 
army.  He  had  distributed  to  the  foot  long  lances,  such  as 
are  commonly  used  in  naval  fights  ; and  instructed  them  to 
throw  tfiem  with  great  force  at  convenient  distances  against 
the  enemies  who  were  inexperienced  in  that  way  of  darting, 
and  used  to  fight  with  short  darts  hand  to  hand.  This  seems 
to  have  been  the  cause  of  the  total  rout  and  open  flight  of  all 
the  Carthaginians  who  were  then  engaged  ; there  fell  of  them 
five  thousand  ; four  elephants  were  killed,  and  two  taken  ; but 
what  was  of  the  greatest  moment,  on  the  third  day  after, 
more  than  three  hundred  horse,  Spaniards  and  Numidians 
mixed,  deserted  to  him,  a disaster  that  had  never  to  that  day 
happened  to  Hannibal,  who  had  long  kept  together  in  har- 
mony an  army  of  barbarians,  collected  out  of  many  various 
and  discordant  nations.  Marcellus  and  his  successors  in  all 
this  war  made  good  use  of  the  faithful  service  of  these  horse- 
men. 

He  now  was  a third  time  created  consul,  and  sailed  over 
into  Sicily.  For  the  success  of  Hannibal  had  excited  the 
Carthaginians  to  lay  claim  to  that  whole  island ; chiefly  be- 
cause, after  the  murder  of  the  tyrant  Hieronymus,  all  things 
had  been  in  tumult  and  confusion  at  Syracuse.  For  which 
reason  the  Romans  also  had  sent  before  to  that  city  a force 
under  the  conduct  of  Appius,  as  praetor.  While  Marcellus 
was  receiving  that  army,  a number  of  Roman  soldiers  cast 
themselves  at  his  feet,  upon  occasion  of  the  following  calamity. 
Of  those  that  survived  the  battle  at  Cannae,  some  had  es- 
caped by  flight,  and  some  were  taken  alive  by  the  enemy  ; so 
great  a multitude,  that  it  was  thought  there  were  not  remain- 
ing Romans  enough  to  defend  the  walls  of  the  city.  And  yet 
the  magnanimity  and  constancy  of  the  city  was  such,  that  it 
would  not  redeem  the  captives  from  Hannibal,  though  it 
might  have  done  so  for  a small  ransom  ; a decree  of  the 
senate  forbade  it,  and  chose  rather  to  leave  them  to  be  killed 


4S0 


MARCELLUS. 


by  the  enemy,  or  sold  out  of  Italy  ; and  commanded  that  all 
who  had  saved  themselves  by  flight  should  be  transpoited 
into  Sicily,  and  not  permitted  to  return  into  Italy,  until  the 
war  with  Hannibal  should  be  ended.  These,  therefore,  when 
Marcellus  was  arrived  in  Sicily,  addressed  themselves  to  him 
in  great  numbers  ; and  casting  themselves  at  his  feet,  with 
much  lamentation  and  tears  humbly  besought  him  to  admit 
them  to  honorable  service  : and  promised  to  make  it  appear 
by  their  future  fidelity  and  exertions,  that  that  defeat  had 
been  received  rather  by  misfortune  than  by  cowardice.  Mar- 
cellus, pitying  them,  petitioned  the  senate  by  letters,  that  he 
might  have  leave  at  all  times  to  recruit  his  legions  out  of 
them.  After  much  debate  about  the  thing,  the  senate  de- 
creed they  were  of  opinion  that  the  commonwealth  did  not 
require  the  service  of  cowardly  soldiers,  if  Marcellus  perhaps 
thought  otherwise,  he  might  make  use  of  them,  provided  no  one 
of  them  be  honored  on  any  occasion  with  a crown  or  military 
gift,  as  a reward  of  his  virtue  or  courage.  This  decree  stung 
Marcellus  ; and  on  his  return  to  Rome,  after  the  Sicilian  war 
was  ended,  he  upbraided  the  senate,  that  they  had  denied  to 
him,  who  had  so  highly  deserved  of  the  republic,  liberty  to 
relieve  so  great  a number  of  citizens  in  great  calamity. 

At  this  time  Marcellus,  first  incensed  by  injuries  done  him 
by  Hippocrates,  commander  of  the  Syracusans  (who  to  give 
proof  of  his  good  affection  to  the  Carthaginians,  and  to 
acquire  the  tyranny  to  himself,  had  killed  a number  of 
Romans  at  Leontini),  beseiged  and  took  by  force  the  city  of 
Leontini ; yet  violated  none  of  the  townsmen  ; only  desert- 
ers, as  many  as  he  took,  he  subjected  to  the  punishment  of  the 
rods  and  axe.  But  Hippocrates,  sending  a report  to  Syra- 
cuse, that  Marcellus  had  put  all  the  adult  population  to  the 
sv/ord,  and  then  coming  upon  the  Syracusans,  who  had  risen 
in  tumult  upon  that  false  leport,  made  himself  master  of  the 
city. . Upon  this  Marcellus  moved  with  his  whole  army  to 
Syracuse,  and  encamping  near  the  wall,  sent  ambassadors  into 
the  city  to  relate  to  the  Syracusans  the  truth  of  what  had  been 
done  in  Leontini.  When  these  could  not  prevail  by  treaty,  the 
whole  power  being  now  in  the  hands  of  Hippocrates,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  attack  the  city  both  by  land  and  by  sea.  The  land 
forces  were  conducted  by  Appius  : Marcellus,  with  sixty  gal- 
leys, each  with  five  rows  of  oars,  furnished  with  all  sorts  of 
arms  and  missiles,  and  a huge  bridge  of  planks  laid  upon 
eight  ships  chained  together,  upon  which  was  carried  the 
engine  to  cast  stones  and  darts,  assaulted  the  wads,  relying 


MARCELLUS. 


481 

on  the  abundance  and  magnificence  of  his  preparations,  and 
on  his  own  previous  glory  ; all  which,  however,  were,  it  would 
seem,  but  trifles  for  Archimedes  and  his  machines. 

These  machines  he  had  designed  and  contrived,  not  as 
matters  of  any  importance,  but  as  mere  amusements  in 
geometry ; in  compliance  with  king  Hiero’s  desire  and  re- 
quest, some  little  time  before,  that  he  should  reduce  to  prac- 
tice some  part  of  his  admirable  speculation  in  science,  and 
t)y  accommodating  the  theoretic  truth  to  sensation  and  ordinary 
use,  bring  it  more  within  the  appreciation  of  the  people  in 
i>eneral.  Eudoxus  and  Archytas  had  been  the  first  origina- 
tors of  this  far-famed  and  highly  prized  art  of  mechanics, 
which  they  employed  as  an  elegant  illustration  of  geo- 
metrical truths,  and  as  means  of  sustaining  experimentally, 
to  the  satisfaction  of  the  senses,  conclusions  too  intricate  for 
oroof  by  words  and  diagrams.  As,  for  example,  to  solve  the 
oroblem,  so  often  required  in  constructing  geometrical  figures, 
given  the  two  extremes,  to  find  the  two  mean  lines  of  a pro- 
portion, both  these  mathematicians  had  recourse  to  the  aid 
of  iufStruments,  adapting  to  their  purpose  certain  curves  and 
sections  of  lines.  But  what  with  Plato’s  indignation  at  it, 
and  his  invectives  against  it  as  the  mere  corruption  and  an- 
nihilation of  the  one  good  of  geometry, — which  was  thus 
shamefully  turning  its  back  upon  the  unembodied  objects  of 
pure  intelligence  to  recur  to  sensation,  and  to  ask  help  (not 
to  be  obtained  without  base  supervisions  and  depravation) 
from  matter ; so  it  was  that  mechanics  came  to  be  separated 
from  geometry,  and,  repudiated  and  neglected  by  philoso- 
phers, took  its  place  as  a military  art.  Archimedes,  however, 
in  writing  to  king  Hiero,  whose  friend  and  near  relation  he 
was,  had  stated  that  given  the  force,  any  given  weight  might 
be  moved,  and  .even  boasted,  we  are  told,  relying  on  the 
strength  of  demonstration,  that  if  there  were  another  earth,  by 
going  into  it  he  could  remove  this.  Kiero  being  struck  with 
amazement  at  this,  and  entreating  him  to  make  good  this 
problem  by  actual  experiment,  and  show  some  great  weight 
moved  by  a small  engine,  he  fixed  accordingly  upon  a ship 
of  burden  out  of  the  king’s  arsenal,  which  could  not  be  drawn 
out  of  the  dock  without  great  labor  and  many  men  ; and, 
loading  her  with  many  passengers  and  a full  freight,  sitting 
himself  the  while  far  off,  with  no  great  endeavor,  but  only 
holding  the  head  of  the  pulley  in  his  hand  and  drawing  the 
cords  by  degrees,  he  drew  the  ship  in  a straight  line,  as 
smoothly  and  evenly,  as  if  she  had  been  in  the  sea.  The 


482 


MARCELLUS. 


king,  astonished  at  this,  and  convinced  of  tile  power  of  the 
art,  prevailed  upon  Archimedes  to  make  him  engines  accom- 
modated to  all  the  purposes,  offensive  and  defensive,  of  a 
siege.  These  the  king  himself  never  made  use  of,  because 
he  spent  almost  all  hjs  life  in  a profound  quiet,  and  the 
highest  affluence.  But  the  apparatus  was,  in  most  opportune 
time,  ready  at  hand  for  the  Syracusans,  and  with  it  also  the 
engineer  himself. 

When,  therefore,  the  Romans  assaulted  the  walls  in  two 
places  at  once,  fear  and  consternation  stupefied  the  Syracu- 
sans, believing  that  nothing  was  able  to  resist  that  violence 
and  those  forces.  But  when  Archimedes  began  to  ply  his 
engines,  he  at  once  shot  against  the  land  forces  all  sorts  of 
missile  weapons,  and  immense  masses  of  stone  that  came 
down  with  incredible  noise  and  violence  ; against  which  no 
man  could  stand ; for  they  knocked  down  those  upon  whom 
they  fell,  in  heaps,  breaking  all  their  ranks  and  files.  In  the 
meantime  huge  poles  thrust  out  from  the  walls  over  the  ships, 
sunk  some  by  the  great  weights  which  they  let  down  from  on 
high  upon  them  ; others  they  lifted  up  into  the  air  by  an  iron 
hand  or  beak  like  a crane’s  beak,  and,  when  they  had  drawn 
them  up  by  the  prow,  and  set  them  on  end  upon  the  poop, 
they  plunged  them  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea  ; or  else  the  ships, 
drawn  by  engines  within,  and  whirled  about,  were  dashed 
against  steep  rocks  that  stood  jutting  out  under  the  walls, 
with  great  destruction  of  the  soldiers  that  were  aboard  them. 
A ship  was  frequently  lifted  up  to  a great  height  in  the  air 
(a  dreadful  thing  to  behold),  and  was  rolled  to  and  fro,  and 
kept  swinging,  until  the  mariners  were  all  thrown  out,  when 
at  length  it  was  dashed  against  the  rocks,  or  let  fall.  At  the 
engine  that  Marcellus  brought  upon  the  bridge  of  ships,  which 
was  called  Sa7?ibuda,  from  some  resemblance  it  had  to  an  in- 
strument of  music,  while  it  was  as  yet  approaching  the  wall, 
there  was  discharged  a piece  of  a rock  of  ten  talents’  weight, 
then  a second  and  a third,  which,  striking  upon  it  with 
immense  force  and  a noise  like  thunder,  broke  all  its  founda- 
tion to  pieces,  shook  out  all  its  fastenings  and  completely 
dislodged  it  from  the  bridge.  So  Marcellus,  doubtful  what 
counsel  to  pursue,  drew  off  his  ships  to  a safer  distance,  and 
sounded  a retreat  to  his  forces  on  land.  They  then  took  a 
resolution  of  coming  up  under  the  walls,  if  it  were  possible, 
in  the  night ; thinking  that  as  Archimedes  used  ropes  stretch- 
ed at  length  in  playing  his  engines,  the  soldiers  would  now 
be  under  the  shot,  and  the  darts  would,  for  want  of  sufficient 


MARCELLUS. 


4S3 


distance  to  throw  them,  fly  over  their  heads  without  effect. 
But  he,  it  appeared,  had  long  before  framed  for  such  occa- 
sions engines  accommodated  to  any  distance,  and  shorter  wea- 
pons ; and  had  made  numerous  small  openings  in  the  vralls, 
through  which,  with  engines  of  a shorter  range,  unexpected 
blows  were  inflicted  on  the  assailants.  Thus,  when  they  who 
thought  to  deceive  the  defenders  came  close  up  to  the  walls, 
instantly  a shower  of  darts  and  other  missile  weapons  was 
again  cast  upon  them.  And  when  stones  came  tumbling 
down  perpendicularly  upon  their  heads,  and,  as  it  were,  the 
whole  wall  shot  out  arrows  at  them,  they  retired.  And  now, 
again,  as  they  were  going  off,  arrows  and  darts  of  a longer 
range  inflicted  a great  slaughter  among  them,  and  their  ships 
were  driven  one  against  another  ; while  they  themselves  were 
not  able  to  retaliate  in  any  way.  For  Archimedes  had  pro- 
vided and  fixed  most  of  his  engines  immediately  under  the 
wall ; whence  the  Romans,  seeing  that  indefinite  mischiefs 
overwhelmed  them  from  no  visible  means,  began  to  think 
they  were  fighting  with  the  gods. 

Yet  Marcellus  escaped  unhurt,  and  deriding  his  own  artifi- 
cers and  engineers,  “ What,’’  said  he  “ must  we  give  up  fight- 
ing with  this  geometrical  Briareus,  who  plays  pitch  and  toss 
with  our  ships,  and,  with  the  multitude  of  darts  which  he 
showers  at  a single  moment  upon  us,  really  outdoes  the  hun- 
dred-handed giants  of  mythology  } ” And  doubtless,  the  rest 
of  the  Syracusans  were  but  the  body  of  Archimedes’  designs, 
one  soul  moving  and  governing  all  ; for,  laying  aside  all  other 
arms,  with  his  alone  they  infested  the  Romans,  and  protected 
themselves.  In  fine,  when  such  terror  had  seized  upon  the 
Romans,  that,  if  they  did  but  see  a little  rope  or  a piece  of 
wood  from  the  wall,  instantly  crying  out,  that  there  it  was 
again,  Archimedes  was  about  to  let  fly  some  engine  at  them, 
they  turned  their  backs  and  fled,  Marcellus  desisted  from 
conflicts  and  assaults,  putting  all  his  hope  in  a long  siege.  Yet 
Archimedes  possessed  so  high  a spirit,  so  profound  a soul, 
and  such  treasures  of  scientific  knowledge,  that  though  these 
inventions  had  now  obtained  him  the  renown  of  more  than 
human  sagacity,  he  yet  would  not  deign  to  leave  behind  him 
any  commentary  or  writing  on  such  subjects  ; but,  repudiat- 
ing as  sordid  and  ignoble  the  whole  trade  of  engineer- 
ing, and  every  sort  of  art  that  lends  itself  to  mere  use  and 
profit,  he  placed  his  whole  affection  and  ambition  in  those 
purer  speculations  where  there  can  be  no  reference  to  the 
vulgar  needs  of  life  ; studies,  the  superiority  of  which  to  all 


4S4 


MARCELLUS. 


Others  is  unquestioned,  and  in  which  the  only  doubt  can  be^ 
whether  the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  the  subjects  examined,  or 
the  precision  and  cogency  of  the  methods  and  means  of  proof, 
most  deserve  our  admiration  It  is  not  possible  to  find  in  all 
geometry  more  difficult  and  intricate  questions,  or  more  sim- 
ple and  lucid  explanations.  Some  ascribe  this  to  his  natura. 
genius  ; while  others  think  that  incredible  effort  and  toil  pio- 
duced  these,  to  all  appearances,  easy  and  unlabored  results. 
No  amount  of  investigation  of  yours  would  succeed  in  attain- 
ing the  proof,  and  yet,  once  seen,  you  immediately  believe 
you  would  have  discovered  it ; by  so  smooth  and  so  rapid  a 
path  he  leads  you  to  the  conclusion  required.  And  thus  it 
ceases  to  be  incredible  that  (as  is  commonly  told  of  him),  the 
charm  of  his  familiar  and  domestic  Siren  made  him  forget 
his  food  and  neglect  his  person,  to  that  degree  that  when  lie 
was  occasionally  carried  by  absolute  violence  to  bathe  or  have 
his  body  anointed,  he  used  to  trace  geometrical  figures  in 
the  ashes  of  the  fire,  and  diagrams  in  the  oil  on  his  body, 
being  in  a state  of  entire  preoccupation,  and,  in  the  truest 
sense,  divine  possession  with  his  love  and  delight  in  science. 
His  discoveries  were  numerous  and  admirable  ; but  he  is  said 
to  have  requested  his  friends  and  relations  that  when  he  was 
dead,  they  would  place  over  his  tomb  a sphere  containing  a 
cylinder,  inscribing  it  with  the  ratio  which  the  containing 
solid  bears  to  the  contained. 

Such  was  Archimedes,  who  now  showed  himself,  and  so  far 
as  lay  in  him,  the  city  also  invincible.  While  the  siege  con- 
tinued, Marcellus  took  Megara,  one  of  the  earliest  founded  of 
the  Greek  cities  in  Sicily,  and  capturing  also  the  camp  of 
Hippocrates  at  Acilae,  killed  above  eight  thousand  men,  hav- 
ing attacked  them  whilst  they  were  engaged  in  forming  their 
fortifications.  He  overran  a great  part  of  Sicily ; gained 
over  many  towns  from  the  Carthaginians,  and  overcame  all 
that  dared  to  encounter  him.  As  the  siege  went  on,  one 
Damippus,  a Lacedaemonian,  putting  to  sea  in  a ship  from 
Syracuse,  was  taken.  When  the  Syracusans  much  desired  to 
redeem  this  man,  and  there  were  many  meetings  and  treaties 
about  the  matter  betwixt  them  and  Marcellus,  he  had  oppor- 
tunity to  notice  a tower  into  which  a body  of  men  might  be 
secretly  introduced,  as  the  wall  near  to  it  was  not  difficult 
to  surmount,  and  it  was  itself  carelessly  guarded.  Coming 
often  thither,  and  entertaining  conferences  about  the  release  of 
Damippus,  he  had  pretty  well  calculated  the  height  of  the 
tower,  and  got  ladders  prepared.  The  Syracusans  celebrated 


MARCELLUS. 


485 


a feast  to  Diana  ; this  juncture  of  time,  when  they  were  given 
up  entirely  to  wine  and  sport,  Marcellus  laid  hold  of,  and^ 
before  the  citizens  perceived  it,  not  only  possessed  himself  oi 
the  tower,  but,  before  the  break  of  day,  filled  the  wall  around 
with  soldiers,  and  made  his  way  into  the  Hexapylum.  The 
Syracusans  now  beginning  to  stir,  and  to  be  alarmed  at  the 
< tumult,  he  ordered  the  trumpets  everywhere  to  sound,  and  thus 
frightened  them  all  into  flight,  as  if  all  parts  of  the  city  were 
already  won,  though  the  most  fortified,  and  the  fairest,  and 
most  ample  quarter  was  still  ungained.  It  is  called  Acradina, 
and  was  divided  by  a wall  from  the  outer  city,  one  part  of 
which  they  call  Neapolis,  the  other  Tycha.  Possessing  him- 
self of  these,  Marcellus,  about  break  of  day,  entered  through 
the  Hexapylum,  all  his  officers  congratulating  him.  But  look- 
ing down  from  the  higher  places  upon  the  beautiful  and  spa- 
cious city  below,  he  is  said  to  have  wept  much,  commiserating 
the  calamity  that  hung  over  it,  when  his  thoughts  repre- 
sented to  him,  how  dismal  and  foul  the  face  of  the  city  would 
in  a few  hours  be,  when  plundered  and  sacked  by  the  soldiers. 
For  among  the  officers  of  his  army  there  was  not  one  man 
that  durst  deny  the  plunder  of  the  city  to  the  soldiers’  demands  ; 
nay,  many  were  instant  that  it  should  be  set  on  fire  and  laid 
level  to  the  ground  : but  this  Marcellus  would  not  listen  to. 
Yet  he  granted,  but  with  great  unwillingness  and  reluctance, 
that  the  money  and  slaves  should  be  made  prey  ; giving  ordors, 
at  the  same  time,  that  none  should  violate  any  free  person, 
nor  kill,  misuse,  or  make  a slave  of  any  of  the  Syracusans. 
Though  he  had  used  this  moderation,  he  still  esteemed  the 
condition  of  that  city  to  be  pitiable,  and,  even  amidst  the 
congratulations  and  joy,  showed  his  strong  feelings  of  sym- 
pathy and  commiseration  at  seeing  all  the  riches  accumulated 
during  a long  felicity,  now  dissipated  in  an  hour.  For  it  is 
related,  that  no  less  prey  and  plunder  was  taken  here,  than  after- 
ward in  Carthage.  For  not  long  after  they  obtained  also  the 
plunder  of  the  other  parts  of  the  city,  which  were  taken  by 
treachery  ; leaving  nothing  untouched  but  the  king’s  money, 
which  was  brought  into  the  public  treasury.  But  nothi_g 
afflicted  Marcellus  so  much  as  the  death  of  Archimedes  ; 
who  was  then,  as  fate  would  have  it,  intent  upon  working  out 
some  problem  by  a diagram,  and  having  fixed  his  mind  alike 
and  his  eyes  upon  the  subject  of  his  speculation,  he  never 
noticed  the  incursion  of  the  Romans,  nor  that  the  city  was 
taken.  In  this  transport  of  study  and  contemplation,  a 
soldier,  unexpectedly  coming  up  to  him,  commanded  him  to 


486 


MARCELLUS. 


follo\v^  to  Marcellus  ; which  he  declining  to  do  before  he  had 
worked  out  his  problem  to  a demonstration,  the  soldiei,  en- 
raged, drew  his  sword  and  ran  him  through.  Others  write,  that 
a Roman  soldier,  running  upon  him  with  a drawn  sword,  offered 
to  kill  him  ; and  that  Archimedes,  looking  back,  earnestly 
besought  him  to  hold  his  hand  a little  while,  that  he  might 
not  leave  what  he  was  then  at  work  upon  inconclusive  and 
imperfect ; but  the  soldier,  nothing  moved  by  his  entreaty, 
instantly  killed  him.  Others  again  relate,  that  as  Archim- 
edes was  carrying  to  Marcellus  mathematical  instruments, 
dials,  spheres,  and  angles,  by  which  the  magnitude  of  the 
sun  might  be  measured  to  the  sight,  some  soldiers  seeing  him, 
and  thinking  that  he  carried  gold  in  a vessel,  slew  him.  Cer- 
tain it  is,  that  his  death  was  very  afflicting  to  Marcellus  ; and 
that  Marcellus  ever  after  regarded  him  that  killed  him  as  a 
murderer ; and  that  he  sought  for  his  kindred  and  honored 
them  with  signal  favors. 

Indeed,  foreign  nations  had  held  the  Romans  to  be  excel- 
lent soldiers  and  formidable  in  battle  ; but  they  had  hitherto 
given  no  memorable  example  of  gentleness,  or  humanity,  or 
civil  virtue  ; and  Marcellus  seems  first  to  have  shown  to  the 
Greeks,  that  his  countrymen  were  most  illustrious  for  their 
justice.  For  such  was  his  moderation  to  all  with  whom  he 
had  any  thing  to  do,  and  such  his  benignity  also  to  many  cities 
and  private  men,  that,  if  any  thing  hard  or  severe  was  decreed 
concerning  the  people  of  Enna,  Megara,  or  Syracuse,  the 
blame  was  thought  to  belong  rather  to  those  upon  whom  the 
storm  fell,  than  to  those  who  brought  it  upon  them.  One  ex- 
ample of  many  I will  commemorate.  In  Sicily  there  is  a 
town  called  Eng3dum,  not  indeed  great,  but  very  ancient  and 
ennobled  by  the  presence  of  the  goddesses,  called  the  Mothers. 
The  temple,  they  say,  was  built  by  the  Cretans ; and  they 
show  some  spears  and  brazen  helmets,  inscribed  with  the 
names  of  Meriones,  and  (wdth  the  same  spelling  as  in  Latin) 
of  Ulysses,  wfflo  consecrated  them  to  the  goddesses.  This 
city  highly  favoring  the  party  of  the  Carthaginians,  Nicias, 
the  most  eminent  of  the  citizens,  counselled  them  to  go  over 
to  the  Romans ; to  that  end  acting  freely  and  openly  in  har- 
angues to  their  assemblies,  arguing  the  imprudence  and  mad- 
ness of  the  opposite  course.  They,  fearing  his  power  and  au- 
thority, resolved  to  deliver  him  in  bonds  to  the  Carthaginians. 
Nicias,  detecting  the  design,  and  seeing  that  hi5  person  was 
secretly  kept  in  watch,  proceeded  to  speak  irreligiously  to  the 
vulgar  of  the  Mothers,  and  showed  many  signs  of  disrespect; 


MARCELLUS. 


487 


as  if  he  derxied  and  contemned  the  received  opinior  of  the  pres- 
ence of  those  goddesses;  his  enemies  the  while  rejoicing,  tha 
he,  of  his  own  accord,  sought  the  destruction  hanging  over  his 
head.  When  they  were  just  now  about  to  lay  hands  upon 
him,  an  assembly  was  held,  and  here  Nicias,  making  a speech 
to  the  people  concerning  some  affair  then  under  deliberatioiij 
in  the  midst  of  his  address,  cast  himself  upon  the  ground  ; 
and  soon  after,  while  amazement  (as  usually  happens  on  such 
surprising  occasions)  held  the  assembly  immovable,  raising 
and  turning  his  head  round,  he  began  in  a trembling  and  deep 
tone,  but  by  degrees  raised  and  sharpened  his  voice.  When 
he  saw  the  whole  theatre  struck  with  horror  and  silence,  throw- 
ing off  his  mantle  and  rending  his  tunic,  he  leaps  up  half 
naked,  and  runs  towards  the  door,  crying  out  aloud  that  he 
was  driven  by  the  wrath  of  the  Mothers.  When  no  man  durst, 
out  of  religious  fear,  lay  hands  upon  him  or  stop  him,  but  all 
gave  way  before  him,  he  ran  out  of  the  gate,  not  omitting  any 
shriek  or  gesture  of  men  possessed  and  mad.  His  wife,  con- 
scious of  his  counterfeiting,  and  privy  to  his  design,  taking 
her  children  with  her,  first  cast  herself  as  a suppliant  before 
the  temple  of  the  goddesses;  then,  pretending  to  seek  her 
wandering  husband,  no  man  hindering  her,  went  out  of  the 
town  in  safety  ; and  by  this  means  they  all  escaped  to  Mar- 
cellus  at  Syracuse.  After  many  other  such  affronts  offered 
him  by  the  men  of  Eng^num,  Marcellus,  having  taken  them  all 
prisoners  and  cast  them  into  bonds,  was  preparing  to  inflict 
upon  them  the  last  punishment  ; when  Nicias,  with  tears  in 
his  eyes,  addressed  himself  to  him.  In  fine,  casting  himself 
at  Marcellus’s  feet,  and  deprecating  for  his  citizens,  he  begged 
most  earnestly  their  lives,  chiefly  those  of  his  enemies.  Mar- 
cellus, relenting,  set  them  all  at  liberty,  and  rewarded  Nicias 
with  ample  lands  and  rich  presents.  This  history  is  recorded 
by  Posidonius  the  philosopher. 

Marcellus,  at  length  recalled  by  the  people  of  Rome  to  the 
immediate  war  at  home,  to  illustrate  his  triumph,  and  adorn 
the  city,  carried  away  with  him  a great  number  of  the  most 
beautiful  ornaments  of  Syracuse.  For,  before  that,  Rome 
neither  had,  nor  had  seen,  any  of  those  fine  and  exquisite 
rarities ; nor  was  any  pleasure  taken  in  graceful  and  elegant 
pieces  of  workmanship.  Stuffed  with  barbarous  arms  and 
spoils  stained  with  blood,  and  everywhere  crowned  with  trium- 
phal memorials  and  trophies,  she  was  no  pleasant  or  delight- 
ful spectacle  for  the  eyes  of  peaceful  or  refined  spectators  ; 
but,  as  Epaminondas  named  the  fields  of  Boeotia  the  stage  of 


488 


MARCELT.US. 


Mars  ; and  Xenophon  called  Ephesus  the  workhouse  of  wai  ^ 
so  in  my  judgment,  may  you  call  Rome,  at  that  time  (to  us^ 
the  words  of  Pindar),  ‘‘  the  precinct  of  the  peaceless  Mars/' 
Whence  Maicellus  was  more  popular  with  the  people  in 
general,  because  he  had  adorned  the  city  with  beautiful  objects 
that  had  all  the  charms  of  Grecian  grace  and  symmetry ; but 
Fabius  Maximus,  who  neither  touched  nor  brought  away  any 
thing  of  this  kind  from  Tarentum,  when  he  had  taken  ;t,  was 
more  approved  of  by  the  elder  men.  He  carried  off  the 
money  and  valuables,  but  forbade  the  statues  to  be  moved  ; 
adding,  as  it  is  commonly  related,  “ Let  us  leave  to  the 
Tarentines  these  offended  gods.’^  They  blamed  Marcellus, 
first  for  placing  the  city  in  an  invidious  position,  as  it  seemed 
now  to  celebrate  victories  and  lead  processions  of  triumph, 
not  only  over  men,  but  also  over  the  gods  as  captives ; then, 
that  he  had  diverted  to  idleness,  and  vain  talk  about  curious 
arts  and  artificers,  the  common  people,  which,  bred  up  in  wars 
and  agriculture,  had  never  tasted  of  luxury  and  sloth,  and,  as 
Euripides  said  of  Hercules,  had  been 

Rude,  unrefined,  only  for  great  things  good, 

SO  that  now  they  misspent  much  of  their  time  in  examining 
and  criticising  trifles.  And  yet,  notwithstanding  this  repri- 
mand, Marcellus  made  it  his  glory  to  the  Greeks  themselves, 
that  he  had  taught  his  ignorant  countrymen  to  esteem  and 
admire  the  elegant  and  wonderful  productions  of  Greece. 

But  when  the  envious  opposed  his  being  brought  trium- 
phant into  the  city,  because  there  w^ere  some  relics  of  the  war 
in  Sicily,  and  a third  triumph  would  be  looked  upon  with 
jealousy,  he  gave  way,  He  triumphed  upon  the  Alban  mount, 
and  thence  entered  the  city  in  ovatio7i^  as  it  is  called  in  Latin, 
in  Greek  eua  ; but  in  this  ovation  he  \vas  neither  carried  in  a 
chariot,  nor  crowned  with  laurel,  nor  ushered  by  trumpets 
sounding  ; but  went  afoot  with  shoes  on,  many  flutes  or  pipes 
sounding  in  concert,  while  he  passed  along,  wearing  a garland 
of  myrtle,  in  a peaceable  aspect,  exciting  rather  love  and 
respect  than  fear.  Whence  I am,  by  conjecture,  led  to  think 
that,  originally,  the  difference  observed  betwixt  ovation  and 
triumph  did  not  depend  upon  the  greatness  of  the  achieve- 
ments, but  the  manner  of  performing  them.  For  they  who, 
having  fought  a set  battle,  and  slain  the  enemy,  returned 
victors,  led  that  martial,  terrible  triumph,  and,  as  the  ordinary 
custom  then  was  in  lustrating  the  army,  adorned  the  arms 
and  the  soldiers  with  a great  dpal  of  laurel.  But  they  wha 


MARCELLUS. 


489 


Without  force,  by  colloquy,  persuasion,  and  reasoning,  had 
done  the  business,  to  these  captains  custom  gave  the  honor 
of  the  unmiJitary  and  festive  ovation.  For  the  pipe  is  the 
badge  of  peace,  and  myrtle  the  plant  of  Venus,  who  more 
than  the  rest  of  the  gods  and  goddesses  abhors  force  and  war. 
Jt  is  called  ovation,  not  as  most  think,  from  the  Greek  euasmus^ 
because  they  act  it  with  shouting  and  cries  of  Eua : for  so  do 
they  also  the  proper  triumphs.  The  Greeks  have  wrested  the 
word  to  their  own  language,  thinking  that  this  honor,  also, 
must  have  some  connection  with  Bacchus,  who  in  Greek  has 
the  titles  of  Euius  and  Thriambus.  But  the  thing  is  otherwise. 
For  it  was  the  custom  for  commanders,  in  their  triumph,  to 
immolate  an  ox,  but  in  their  ovation,  a sheep  : hence  they 
named  it  Ovation^  from  the  Latin  ovis.  It  is  worth  observing, 
how  exactly  opposite  the  sacrifices  appointed  by  the  Snartan 
legislator  are  to  those  of  the  Romans.  For  at  Lacedmmon, 
a captain,  who  had  performed  the  work  he  had  undertook  by 
cunning,  or  courteous  treaty,  on  laying  down  his  command, 
immolated  an  ox ; he  that  did  the  business  by  battle,  offered 
a cock  ; the  Lacedaemonians,  though  most  warlike,  thinking 
an  exploit  performed  by  reason  and  wisdom,  to  be  more  ex- 
cellent and  more  congruous  to  man,  than  one  effected  by 
mere  force  and  courage.  Which  of  the  two  is  to  be  pre- 
ferred I leave  to  the  determination  of  others. 

Marcellus  being  the  fourth  time  consul,  his  enemies  sub- 
orned the  Syracusans  to  come  to  Rome  to  accuse  him,  and  to 
complain  that  they  had  suffered  indignities  and  wrongs,  con- 
trary to  the  conditions  granted  them.  It  happened  that  Mar- 
cellus was  in  the  capitol  offering  sacrifice  when  the  Syracusans 
petitioned  the  senate,  yet  sitting,  that  they  might  have  leave 
to  accuse  him  and  present  their  grievances.  Marcellus’s  col- 
league, eager  to  protect  him  in  his  absence,  put  them  out  of  the 
court.  But  Marcellus  himself  came  as  soon  as  he  heard  of 
it.  And  first,  in  his  curule  chair  as  consul,  he  referred  to  the 
senate  the  cognizance  of  other  matters  : but  when  these  weie 
transacted,  rising  from  his  seat,  he  passed  as  a private  man 
into  the  place  where  the  accused  were  wont  to  make  their  de- 
fence, and  gave  free  liberty  to  the  Syracusans  to  impeach  him. 
But  they,  struck  with  consternation  by  his  majesty  and  confi- 
dence, stood  astonished  ; and  the  power  of  his  presence  now, 
in  his  robe  of  state,  appeared  far  more  terrible  and  severe  than 
it  had  done  when  he  was  arrayed  in  armor.  Yet  reanimated 
at  length  by  Marcellus’s  rivals,  they  began  their  impeachment, 
and  made  an  oration  in  which  pleas  of  justice  mingled  with 


490 


MARCELLUS. 


lamentation  and  complaint ; the  sum  of  which  was,  that  being 
allies  and  friends  of  the  people  of  Rome,  they  had,  notwith- 
standing, suffered  things  which  other  commanders  had  ab- 
stained  from  inflicting  upon  enemies.  To  this  Marcellus  am 
swered  ; that  they  had  committed  many  acts  of  hostility  against 
the  people  of  Rome,  and  had  suffered  nothing  but  what  enemies 
conquered  and  captured  in  war,  cannot  possibly  be  protected 
from  suffering  : that  it  was  their  own  fault  they  had  been  made 
captives,  because  they  refused  to  give  ear  to  his  frequent  at- 
tempts to  pursuade  them  by  gentle  means : neither  were  they 
forced  into  war  by  the  power  of  tyrants,  but  had  rather  chosen 
the  tyrants  themselves  for  the  express  object  that  they  might 
make  war.  The  orations  ended,  and  the  Syracusans,  accord- 
ing to  the  custom,  having  retired,  Marcellus  left  his  colleague 
to  ask  the  sentences,  and  withdrawing  with  the  Syracusans, 
staid  expecting  at  the  doors  of  the  senate-house  ; not  in  the 
least  discomposed  in  spirit,  either  with  alarm  at  the  accusation, 
or  by  anger  against  the  Syracusans  ; but  with  perfect  calmness 
and  serenity  attending  the  issue  of  the  cause.  The  sentences 
at  length  being  all  asked,  and  a decree  of  the  senate  made  in 
vindication  of  Marcellus,  the  Syracusans,  with  tears  flowing 
from  their  eyes,  cast  themselves  at  his  knees,  beseeching  him 
to  forgive  themselves  there  present,  and  to  be  moved  by  the 
misery  of  the  rest  of  their  city,  which  would  ever  be  mindful 
of,  and  grateful  for,  his  benefits.  Thus  Marcellus,  softened 
by  their  tears  and  distress,  was  not  only  reconciled  to  the 
deputies,  but  ever  afterwards  continued  to  find  opportunity  of 
doing  kindness  to  the  Syracusans.  The  liberty  which  he  had 
restored  to  them,  and  their  rights,  laws,  and  goods  that  were 
left,  the  senate  confirmed.  Upon  which  account  the  Syracu- 
sans, besides  other  signal  honors,  made  a law,  that  if  Marcellus 
should  at  any  time  come  into  Sicily,  or  any  of  his  posterity,  the 
Syracusans  should  wear  garlands  and  offer  public  sacrifice  .o 
the  gods. 

After  this  he  moved  against  Hannibal.  And  whereas  the 
other  consuls  and  commanders,  since  the  defeat  received  at 
Cannae,  had  all  made  use  of  the  same  policy  against  Hannibal, 
namely  to  decline  coming  to  a battle  with  him ; and  none  had 
had  the  courage  to  encounter  him  in  the  field,  and  put  them- 
selves to  the  decision  by  the  sword  ; Marcellus  entered  upon 
the  opposite  course,  thinking  that  Italy  would  be  destroyed  by 
the  very  delay  by  which  they  looked  to  wear  out  Hannibal ; and 
that  Fabius,  who,  adhering  to  his  cautious  policy,  waited  to  see 
the  war  extinguished,  while  P^ome  itself  meantime  wasted 


MARC-ELLUS. 


491 


away  (like  timid  physicians,  who,  dreading  to  administer  rem- 
edies, stay  waiting,  and  believe  that  what  is  the  decay  of  the 
patient’s  strength  is  the  decline  of  the  disease),  was  not  taking 
a right  course  to  heal  the  sickness  of  his  country.  And  first, 
the  great  cities  of  the  Samnites,  which  had  revolted,  came  into 
his  power ; in  which  he  found  a large  quantity  of  corn  and 
I money,  and  three  thousand  of  Hannibal’s  soldiers,  that  were 
left  for  the  defence.  After  this,  the  proconsu.1  Cnseus  Fulvius 
with  eleven  tribunes  of  the  soldiers  being  slain  in  Apulia,  and 
the  greatest  part  of  the  army  also  at  the  same  time  cut  o-ff,  he 
dispatched  letters  to  Rome,  and  bade  the  people  be  of  good 
courage,  for  that  he  was  now  upon  the  march  against  Hannibal, 
to  turn  his  triumph  into  sadness.  On  these  letters  being  read, 
Livy  writes,  that  the  people  were  not  only  not  encouraged, 
but  more  discouraged,  than  before.  For  danger,  they  thought, 
was  but  the  greater  in  proportion  as  Marcellus  was  of  more 
value  than  Fulvius.  He,  as  he  had  written,  advancing  into 
the  territories  of  the  Litcanians,  came  up  to  him  at  Numistro, 
and,  the  enemy  keeping  himself  upon  the  hills,  pitched  his 
camp  in  a level  plain,  and  the  next  day  drew  forth  his  army  in 
order  for  fight.  Nor  did  Hannibal  refuse  the  challenge. 
They  fought  long  and  obstinately  on  both  sides,  victory  yet 
seeming  undecided,  when,  after  three  hours’  conflict,  night 
hardly  parted  them.  The  next  day,  as  soon  as  the  sun  v/as 
risen,  Marcellus  again  brought  forth  his  troops,  and  ranged 
them  among  the  dead  bodies  of  the  slain,  challenging  Hannibal 
to  solve  the  question  by  another  trial.  When  he  dislodged 
and  drew  off,  Marcellus,  gathering  up  the  spoils  of  the  enemies, 
and  burying  the  bodies  of  his  slain  soldiers,  closely  followed 
him.  And  though  Hannibal  often  used  stratagems,  and  laid 
ambushes  to  entrap  Marcellus,  yet  he  never  could  circumvent 
him.  By  skirmishes,  meantime,  in  all  of  which  he  was  supe- 
rior, Marcellus  gained  himself  such  high  repute,  that,  when  the 
time  of  .he  Comitia  at  Rome  was  near  at  hanil,  the  senate 
thought  fit  rather  to  recall  the  other  consul  from  Sicily,  than  to 
withdraw  Marcellus  from  his  conflict  with  Hannibal ; and  011 
1 is  arrival  they  bid  him  name  Quintus  Fulvius  dictator.  For 
the  dictator  is  created  neither  by  the  people,  nor  by  the  senate  , 
but  the  consul  or  the  praetor,  before  the  popular  assembly,  pro- 
nounces him  to  be  dictator,  whom  he  himself  chooses.  Hence 
he  is  called  dictator,  meaning  to  name.  Others  say  that 

he  is  named  dictator,  because  his  word  is  a law^  and  he  orders 
what  he  pleases,  without  submitting  it  to  the  vote.  For  the 
Romans  call  the  orders  of  magistrates,  Edicts, 


492 


MARCELLUS. 


And  now  because  Marcellus’s  colleague,  who  was  recalled 
from  Sicily,  had  a mind  to  name  another  man  dictator,  and 
would  not  be  forced  to  change  his  opinion,  he  sailed  away  by 
night  back  to  Sicily.  So  the  common  people  made  an  order 
that  Quintus  Fulvius  should  be  chosen  dir  tator  : and  the  sen 
ate,  by  an  express,  commanded  Marcellus  to  nominate  him. 
lie  obeying  proclaimed  him  dictator  according  to  the  order  of 
the  people  ; but  the  office  of  proconsul  w^as  continued  to  him- 
self for  a year.  And  having  arranged  wdth  Fabius  Maximus, 
that  while  he  besieged  Tarentum,  he  himself  would,  by  follow- 
ing Hannibal  and  drawing  him  up  and  down,  detain  him  from 
coming  to  the  relief  of  the  Tarentines,  he  overtook  him  at 
Canusium  : and  as  Hannibal  often  shifted  his  camp,  and  still 
declined  the  combat,  he  everywdrere  sought  to  engage  him. 
At  last  pressing  upon  him  while  encamping  by  light  skirmishes 
he  provoked  him  to  a battle ; but  night  again  divided  them  in 
the  very  heat  of  the  conflict.  The  next  day  Marcellus  again 
showed  himself  in  arms,  and  brought  up  his  forces  in  array. 
Flannibal,  in  extreme  grief,  called  his  Carthaginians  together 
to  an  harangue  : and  vehemently  prayed  them,  to  fight  to-day 
worthily  of  all  their  former  successes ; “ For  you  see,”  said 
he,  “ how,  after  such  great  victories,  we  have  not  liberty  to 
respire,  nor  to  repose  ourselves,  though  victors ; unless  we 
drive  this  man  back.”  Then  the  two  armies  joining  battle, 
fought  fiercely ; wffien  the  event  of  an  untimely  movement 
showed  Marcellus  to  have  been  guilty  of  an  error.  The  right 
wing  being  hard  pressed  upon,  he  commanded  one  of  the 
legions  to  be  brought  up  to  the  front.  This  change  disturbing 
the  array  and  posture  of  the  legions,  gave  the  victory  to  the 
enemies  ; and  the?e  fell  two  thousand  seven  hundred  Romans. 
Marcellus,  after  he  had  retreated  into  his  camp,  called  his 
soldiers  together;  ‘‘I  see,”  said  he,  “many  Roman  aims  and 
bodies,  but  I see  not  so  much  as  one  Roman.”  To  their  en- 
treaties for  his  pardon,  he  returned  a refusal  while  they  remain- 
ed beaten,  but  promised  to  give  it  so  soon  as  they  shou  c 
overcome  ; and  he  resolved  to  bring  them  into  the  field  again 
the  next  day,  that  the  fame  of  their  victory  might  arrive  at 
Rome  before  that  of  their  flight.  Dismissing  the  assembly, 
he  commanded  barley  instead  of  wheat  to  be  given  to  those 
companies  that  had  turned  their  backs.  These  rebukes  were 
so  bitter  to  the  soldiers,  that  though  a great  number  of  them 
were  grievously  wounded,  yet  they  relate  there  was  not  one 
to  whom  the  general’s  oration  was  not  more  painful  and  smart 
ing  than  his  wounds. 


MARCELLUS. 


493 


The  day  breaking,  a scarlet  toga,  the  sign  of  instant  battle, 
was  displayed.  The  companies  marked  with  ignominy,  begged 
they  might  be  posted  in  the  foremost  place,  and  obtained  their 
request.  Then  the  tribunes  bring  forth  the  rest  of  the  forces^ 
and  draw  them  up.  On  news  of  which,  ‘‘  O strange  ! ’’  said 
Hannibal,  “ what  will  you  do  with  this  man,  who  can  bear 
neither  good  nor  bad  fortune  ? He  is  the  only  man  who 
neither  suffers  us  to  rest  when  he  is  victor,  nor  rests  himself 
when  he  is  overcome.  We  shall  have,  it  seems,  perpetually 
to  fight  with  him  ; as  in  good  success  his  confidence,  and  in 
ill  success  Ivs  shame,  still  urges  him  to  some  further  enter- 
prise ? ” Then  the  armies  engaged.  When  the  fight  was 
doubtful,  Hannibal  commanded  the  elephants  to  be  brought 
into  the  first  battalion,  and  to  be  driven  upon  the  van  of  the 
Romans.  When  the  beasts,  trampling  upon  many,  soon 
caused  disorder,  Flavius,  a tribune  of  soldiers,  snatching  an 
ensign,  meets  them,  and  wounding  the  first  elephant  with  the 
spike  at  the  bottom  of  the  ensign  staff,  puts  him  to  flight. 
The  beast  turned  around  upon  the  next,  and  drove  back  both 
him  and  the  rest  that  followed.  Marcellus,  seeing  this, 
pours  in  his  horse  with  great  force  upon  the  elephants,  and 
upon  the  enemy  disordered  by  their  flight.  The  horse,  mak- 
ing a fierce  impression,  pursued  the  Carthaginians  borne  to 
their  camp,  while  the  elephants,  wounded  and  running  upon 
their  own  party,  caused  a considerable  slaughter.  It  is  said, 
more  than  eight  thousand  were  slain  ; of  the  Roman  army 
three  thousand,  and  almost  all  wounded.  This  gave  Hanni- 
bal opportunity  to  retire  in  the  silence  of  the  night,  and  to 
remove  to  greater  distance  from  Marcellus  ; who  was  kept 
from  pursuing  by  the  number  of  his  wounded  men,  and  re- 
moved, by  gentle  marches,  into  Campania,  and  spent  the 
summer  at  Sinuessa,  engaged  in  restoring  them. 

But  as  Hannibal,  having  disentangled  himself  from  Mar- 
cellus, ranged  with  his  army  round  about  the  country,  and 
wasted  Italy  free  from  all  fear,  at  Rome  Ma^rcellus  was  evil 
spoken  .of.  His  detractors  induced  Publicius  Bibulus,  tribune 
of  the  people,  an  eloquent  and  violent  man,  to  undertake  his 
accusation.  He,  by  assiduous  harangues,  prevailed  upon  the 
people  to  withdraw  from  Marcellus  the  command  of  the  army; 
“Seeing  that  Marcellus,’^  said  he,  “after brief  exercise  in  the 
war,  has  withdrawn  as  it  might  be  from  the  wrestling  ground 
to  the  warm  baths  to  refresh  himself.’’  Marcellus,  on  hearing 
this,  appointed  lieutenants  over  his  camp,  and  hasted  to 
Rome  to  refute  the  charges  against  him : and  there  found 


494 


MARCELLUS. 


ready  drawn  up  an  impeachment  consisting  of  these  calumnies. 
At  the  day  prefixed,  in  the  Flaminian  circus,  into  which  place 
the  people  had  assembled  themselves,  Bibulus  rose  and  ac^ 
cused  I'iim.  Marcellus  himself  answered,  briefly  .and  simply  . 
but  the  first  and  most  approved  men  of  the  city  spoke  largely 
and  in  high  terms, very  freely  advising  the  people  not  to  show 
themselves  worse  judges  than  the  enemy,  condemning  Mar- 
cellus of  timidity,  from  whom  alone  of  all  their  captains  the 
enemy  fled,  and  as  perpetually  endeavored  to  avoid  fighting 
with  him,  as  to  fight  with  others.  When  they  made  an  end 
of  speaking,  the  accuser’s  hope  to  obtain  judgment  so  far  de- 
ceived him,  that  Marcellus  was  not  only  absolved,  but  the 
fifth  time  created  consul. 

No  sooner  had  he  entered  upon  this  consulate,  but  he 
suppressed  a great  commotion  in  Etruria,  that  had  proceeded 
near  to  revolt,  and  visited  and  quieted  the  cities.  Then,  when 
the  dedication  of  the  temple,  which  he  had  vowed  out  of  his 
Sicilian  spoils  to  Honor  and  Virtue,  was  objected  to  by  the 
priests,  because  they  denied  that  one  temple  could  be  lawfully 
dedicated  to  two  gods,  he  began  to  adjoin  another  to  it,  re- 
senting the  priests’  opposition,  and  almost  converting  the  thing 
into  an  omen.  And,  truly,  many  other  prodigies  also  affrighted 
him  ; some  temples  had  been  struck  with  lightning,  and  in 
Jupiter’s  temple  mice  had  gnawed  the  gold;  it  was  reported 
also,  that  an  ox  had  spoke,  and  that  a boy  had  been  born 
with  a head  like  an  elephant’s.  All  which  prodigies  had  in- 
deed been  attended  to,  but  due  reconciliation  had  not  been 
obtained  from  the  gods.  The  aruspices  therefore  detained 
him  at  Rome,  glowing  and  burning  with  desire  to  return  to 
the  war.  For  no  man  was  ever  inflamed  with  so  great  desire 
of  any  thing,  as  was  he  to  fight  a battle  with  Hannibal.  It 
was  the  subject  of  his  dreams  in  the  night,  the  topic  of  all  his 
consultations  with  his  friends  and  familiars,  nor  did  he  pre- 
sent to  the  gods  any  other  wish,  but  that  he  might  meet 
Hannibal  in  the  field.  And  I think,  that  he  would  most 
gladly  have  set  upon  him,  with  both  armies  environed  within 
a single  camp.  Had  he  not  been  even  loaded  with  honors, 
and  had  he  not  given  proofs  in  many  ways  of  hi>s  maturity  of 
ludgment  and  of  prudence  equal  to  that  of  any  commander, 
you  might  have  said,  that  he  was  agitated  by  a youthful  am- 
bition, above  what  became  a man  of  that  age  : for  he  had 
passed  the  sixtieth  year  of  his  life  when  he  began  his  fifth 
consulship. 

The  sacrifices  having  been  offered,  and  all  that  belonged 


MARCELLUS. 


49S 


to  the  propitiation  of  the  gods  performed,  according  to  the 
prescription  of  the  diviners,  he  at  last  with  his  colleague  went 
forth  to  carry  on  the  war.  He  tried  all  possible  means  to 
provoke  Hannibal,  who  at  that  time  had  a standing  camp  be- 
twixt Bantia  and  Venusia.  Hannibal  declined  an  engagement, 
but  having  obtained  intelligence  that  some  troops  were  on 
their  way  to  the  town  of  Locri  Epizephyrii,  placing  an  ambush 
under  the  little  hill  of  Peteiia,  he  slew  two  thousand  five,  hun- 
dred soldiers.  This  incensed  Marcellus  to  revenge  ; and  lie 
therefore  moved  nearer  Hannibal.  Betwixt  the  two  camps 
was  a little  hill,  a tolerably  secure  post,  covered  with  wood  ; 
it  had  steep  descents  on  either  side,  and  there  were  springs 
of  water  seen  trickling  down.  This  place  was  so  fit  and  ad- 
vantageous, that  the  Romans  wondered  that  Hannibal,  who 
had  come  thither  before  them,  had  not  seized  upon  it,  but  had 
left  it  to  the  enemies.  But  to  him  the  place  had  seemed  com- 
modious indeed  for  a camp,  but  yet  more  commodious  for  an 
ambuscade  ; and  to  that  use  he  chose  to  put  it.  So  in  the 
wood  and  the  hollows  he  hid  a number  of  archers  and  spear- 
men, confident  that  the  commodiousness  of  the  place  would 
allure  the  Romans.  Nor  was  he  deceived  in  his  expectation. 
For  presently  in  the  Roman  camp  they  talked  and  disputed, 
as  if  they  had  all  been  captains,  how  the  place  ought  to  be 
seized,  and  what  great  advantage  they  should  thereby  gain 
upon  the  enemies,  chiefly  if  they  transferred  their  camp  thither, 
at  any  rate,  if  they  strengthened  the  place  with  a fort.  Mar- 
cellus resolved  to  go,  with  a few  horse,  to  view  it.  Having 
called  a diviner  he  proceeded  to  sacrifice.  In  the  first  victim 
the  arirspex  showed  him  the  liver  without  a head;  in  the 
second  the  head  appeared  of  unusual  size,  and  all  the  other 
indications  highly  promising.  When  these  seemed  sufficient 
to  free  them  from  the  dread  of  the  former,  the  diviners  de- 
clared, that  they  were  all  the  more  terrified  by  the  latter ; 
because  entrails  too  fair  and  promising,  when  they  appear 
after  others  that  are  maimed  and  monstrous,  render  the  change 
doubtful  and  suspicious.  But 

Nor  fire  nor  brazen  wall  can  keep  out  fate; 

as  Pindar  observes.  Marcellus,  therefore,  taking  with  him 
his  colleague  Crispinus,  and  his  son,  a tribune  of  soldiers, 
with  two  hundred  and  twenty  horse  at  most  (among  whom 
there  was  not  one  Roman,  but  all  were  Etruscans,  except 
forty  Fregellans,  of  whose  courage  and  fidelity  he  had  on  all 
occasions  received  full  proof),  goes  to  view  the  place.  The  hill 


MARCELLUS. 


495 

was  covered  with  woods  all  over ; on  the  top  of  it  sat  a scout 
concealed  from  the  sight  of  tl.e  enemy,  but  having  the  Roman 
camp  exposed  to  his  view.  Upon  signs  received  from  him, 
the  men  that  were  placed  in  ambush,  stirred  not  till  Marcellus 
came  near ; and  then  all  starting  up  in  an  instant,  and 
encompassing  him  from  all  sides,  attacked  him  with  darts, 
struck  about  and  wounded  the  backs  of  those  that  fled,  and 
pressed  upon  those  who  resisted.  These  were  the  forty  Fre- 
gellans.  For  though  the  Etruscans  fled  in  the  very  beginning 
of  the  fight,  the  Fregellans  formed  themselves  into  a ring, 
bravely  defending  the  consuls,  till  Crispinus,  struck  with  two 
darts,  turned  his  horse  to  fly  away ; and  Marcellus’s  side  was 
run  through  with  a lance  with  a broad  head.  Then  the  Fre- 
gellans, also,  the  few  that  remained  alive,  leaving  the  fallen 
consul,  and  rescuing  young  Marcellus,  who  also  was  wounded, 
got  into  the  camp  by  flight.  There  were  slain  not  much  above 
forty ; five  lictors  and  eighteen  horsemen  came  alive  into  the 
enemy’s  hands.  Crispinus  also  died  of  his  wounds  a few  days 
after.  Such  a disaster  as  the  loss  of  both  consuls  in  a single 
engagement,  was  one  that  had  never  before  befallen  the 
Romans. 

Hannibal,  little  valuing  the  other  events,  as  soon  as  he 
was  told  of  Marcellus’s  death,  immediately  hasted  to  the  hill. 
Viewing  the  body,  and  continuing  for  some  time  to  observe 
its  strength  and  shape,  he  allowed  not  a word  to  fall  from  him 
expressive  of  the  least  pride  or  arrogancy,  nor  did  he  show  in 
his  countenance  any  sign  of  gladness,  as  another  perhaps 
would  have  done,  when  his  fierce  and  troublesome  enemy  had 
been  taken  away ; but  amazed  by  so  sudden  and  unexpected 
an  end,  taking  off  nothing  but  his  ring,  gave  order  to  have 
the  body  properly  clad  and  adorned  and  honorably  burned. 
The  relics  put  into  a silver  urn,  with  a crown  of  gold  to  cover 
it,  he  sent  back  to  his  son.  But  some  of  the  Numidians  set- 
ting upon  these  that  were  carrying  the  urn,  took  it  from  them 
by  force,  and  cast  away  the  bones  ; which  being  told  to  Han- 
nibal, It  is  impossible,  it  seems  then,”  he  said,  ‘‘  to  do  any 
thing  against  the  will  of  God  ? ” He  punished  the  Numidians  ; 
but  took  no  further  care  of  sending  or  re-collecting  the  bones  ; 
conceiving  that  Marcellus  so  fell,  and  so  lay  unburied,  by  a 
certain  fate.  So  Cornelius  Nepos  and  Vaerius  Maximus  have 
left  upon  record : but  Livy  and  Augustus  Caesar  affirm,  that 
the  urn  was  brought  to  his  son,  and  honored  with  a magnifi- 
cent funeral.  Besides  the  monuments  raised  for  him  at 
Rome,  there  was  dedicated  to  his  memory  at  Catana  in  Sicily, 


PELOPIDAS  AND  MARCELLUS. 


497 


an  ample  wrestling  place  called  after  him ; statutes  and  pic- 
tures, out  of  those  he  took  from  Syracuse,  were  set  up  in 
Samothrace,  in  the  temple  of  the  gods,  named  Cabiri,  and  in 
that  of  Minerva  at  Lindus,  where  also  there  was  a statue  of. 
him  says  Posidonius,  with  the  following  inscription  : — 

This  was,  O stranger,  once  Rome’s  star  divine, 

Claudius  Marcellus  of  an  ancient  line  ; 

* To  fight  her  wars  seven  times  her  consul  made, 

Low  in  the  dust  her  enemies  he  laid. 

The  writer  of  the  inscription,  has  added  to  Marcellus's  five 
consulates,  his  two  proconsulates.  His  progeny  continued  in 
high  hollar  even  down  to  Marcellus,  son  of  Octavia,  sister  of 
Augustus,  whom  she  bore  to  her  husband  Caius  Marceikjs; 
and  who  died  a bridegroom,  in  the  year  of  his  seaiieship^ 
having  not  long  before  married  Caesar's  daughter.  His 
mother,  Octavia,  dedicated  the  library  to  his  honor  and 
memory,  and  Caesar,  the  theatre  which  bears  his  name. 


COMPARISON  OF  PELOPIDAS 
WITH  MARCELLUS. 


These  are  the  memorable  things  I have  found  in  histo- 
rians, concerning  Marcellus  and  Pelopidas.  Betwixt  which 
two  great  men,  though  in  natural  character  and  manners, 
they  nearly  resembled  each  other,  because  both  were  valiant 
and  diligent,  daring  and  high-spirited,  there  was  yet  some  di- 
versity in  the  one  point,  that  Marcellus  in  many  cities  which 
he  reduced  under  his  power,  committed  great  slaughter ; but 
Epaminondas  and  Pelopidas  never  after  any  victory  put  men 
to  death,  or  reduced  citizens  to  slavery.  And  we  are  told, 
too,  that  the  Thebans  would  not,  had  these  been  present, 
have  taken  the  measures  they  did,  against  the  Orchomenians. 
Marcellus’s  exploits  against  the  Gauls  are  admirable  and  am- 
ple ; when,  accompanied  by  a few  horse,  he  defeated  and  put 
to  flight  a vast  number  of  horse  and  foot  together  (an  action 
you  cannot  easily  in  historians  find  to  have  been  done  by  any 
other  captain),  and  took  their  king  prisoner.  To  which  honor 
Pelopidas  aspired,  but  did  not  attain ; he  was  killed  by  the 
tyrant  in  the  attempt.  But  to  these  you  may  perhaps  oppose 
those  two  most  glorious  battles  at  Leuctra  and  Tegyrae  ; and 
we  have  no  statement  of  any  achievment  of  Marcellus,  by 

2 


^gS  PELOPIDAS  AND  MARCELLUS. 

stealth  or  ambuscade,  such  as  were  those  of  Pelopidas,  when  he 
returned  from  exile,  and  killed  the  tyrants  at  Thebes  ; which, 
indeed,  may  claim  to  be  called  the  first  in  rank  of  all  achieve- 
ments ever  performed  by  secrecy  and  cunning.  Hannibal  was 
indeed,  a most  formidable  enemy  for  the  Romans  ; but  so  for 
that  matter  were  the  Lacedaemonians  for  the  Thebans.  And 
that  these  were,  in  the  fights  of  Leuctra  and  Tegyrae,  beaten 
and  put  to  flight  by  Pelopidas,  is  confessed  ; whereas,  Poly- 
bius writes,  that  Hannibal  was  never  so  much  as  once  van- 
quished by  Marcellus,  but  remained  invincible  in  all  encount- 
ers, till  Scipio  came.  I myself,  indeed,  have  followed  rather 
Livy,  Caesar,  Cornelius  Nepos,  and,  among  the  Greeks,  king 
Juba,  in  stating  that  the  troops  of  Hannibal  were  in  some  en- 
counters routed  and  put  to  flight  by  Marcellus  ; but  certainly 
these  defeats  conduced  little  to  the  sum  of  the  war.  It  would 
seem  as  if  they  had  been  merely  feints  of  some  sort  on  the 
part  of  the  Carthaginians.  What  was  indeed  truly  and  really 
admirable  was,  that  the  Romans,  after  the  defeat  of  so  many 
armies,  the  slaughter  of  so  many  captains,  and,  in  fine,  the 
confusion  of  almost  the  whole  Roman  empire,  still  showed 
a courage  equal  to  their  losses,  and  were  as  willing  as 
their  enemies  to  engage  in  new  battles.  And  Marcellus 
was  the  one  man  who  overcame  the  great  and  inveterate 
fear  and  dread,  and  revived,  raised,  and  confirmed  the 
spirits  of  the  soldiers  to  that  degree  of  emulation  and 
bravery,  that  would  not  lot  them  easily  yield  the  victory,  but 
made  them  contend  for  it  to  the  last.  For  the  same  men, 
whom  continual  defeats  had  accustomed  to  think  themselves 
happy,  if  they  could  but  save  themselves  by  running  from 
Hannibal,  were  by  him  taught  to  esteem  it  base  and  ignomin- 
ious to  return  safe  but  unsuccessful ; to  be  ashamed  to  confess 
that  they  had  yielded  one  step  in  the  terrors  of  the  fight ; and 
to  grieve  to  extremity  if  they  were  not  victorious. 

In  short,  as  Pelopidas  was  never  overcome  in  any  battle, 
where  himself  was  present  and  commanded  in  chief,  and  as 
Marcellus  gained  more  victories  than  any  of  his  contempora- 
ries, truly  he  that  could  not  be  easily  overcome,  considering 
his  many  successes,  may  fairly  be  compared  with  him  who 
was  undefeated.  Marcellus  took  Syracuse ; whereas  Pelopi- 
das was  frustrated  of  his  hope  of  capturing  Sparta.  But  in 
my  judgment  it  was  more  difficult  to  advance  his  standard 
even  to  the  walls  of  Sparta,  and  to  be  the  first  of  mortals  that 
ever  passed  the  river  Eurotas  in  arms,  than  it  was  to  reduce 
Sicily ; unless,  indeed,  we  say  that  that  adventure  is  with  more 


PELOPIDAS  AND  MARCELLUS. 


499 


of  right  to  be  attributed  to  Epaminondas,  as  was  also  the  Leuc- 
trian  battle  ; whereas  Marcellus’s  renown,  and  the  glory  of 
his  brave  actions  came  entire  and  undiminished  to  him  alone. 
For  he  alone  took  Syracuse  ; and  without  his  colleague’s  help 
defeated  the  Gauls,  and,  when  all  others  declined,  alone,  with- 
out one  companion,  ventured  to  engage  with  Hannibal  ; and 
changing  the  aspect  of  the  war  first  showed  the  example  of 
daring  to  attack  him. 

I cannot  commend  the  death  of  either  of  these  great  men  ; 
the  suddenness  and  strangeness  of  their  ends  gives  me  a feel- 
ing rather  of  pain  and  distress.  Hannibal  has  my  admiration, 
who,  in  so  many  severe  conflicts,  more  than  can  be  reckoned 
in  one  day,  never  received  so  much  as  one  wound.  I honor 
Chrysantes  also  (in  Xenophon’s  Cyropaedia),  who,  having 
raised  his  sword  in  the  act  of  striking  his  enemy,  so  soon  as 
a retreat  was  sounded,  left  him,  and  retired  sedately  and 
modestly.  Yet  the  anger  which  provoked  Pelopidas  to  pursue 
revenge  in  the  heat  of  fight  may  excuse  him. 

The  first  thing  for  a captain  is  to  gain 

Safe  victory  ; the  next  to  be  with  honor  slain. 

is  Euripides  says.  For  then  he  cannot  be  said  to  suffer  death  ; 
It  is  rather  to  be  called  an  action.  The  very  object,  too,  of 
Pelopidas’s  victory,  which  consisted  in  the  slaughter  of  the 
tyrant,  presenting  itself  to  his  eyes,  did  not  wholly  carry  him 
away  unadvisedly : he  could  not  easily  expect  again  to  have 
another  equally  glorious  occasion  for  the  exercise  of  his  cour- 
age, in  a noble  and  honorable  cause.  But  Marcellus,  when 
it  made  little  to  his  advantage,  and  when  no  such  violent 
ardor  as  present  danger  naturally  calls  out  transported  him  to 
passion,  throwing  himself  into  danger  fell  into  an  unexplored 
ambush  ; he,  namely,  who  had  borne  five  consulates,  led  three 
triumphs,  won  the  spoils  and  glories  of  kings  and  victories,  to 
act  the  part  of  a mere  scout,  or  sentinel,  and  to  expose  all  his 
achievements  to  be  trod  under  foot  by  the  mercenary  Span- 
iards and  Numidians,  who  sold  themselves  and  their  lives  to 
the  Carthaginians  ; so  that  even  they  themselves  felt  unworthy, 
and  almost  grudged  themselves  the  unhoped  for  success  of 
having  cut  of,  among  a few  Fregellan  scouts,  the  most  valiant, 
the  most  potent,  and  most  renowned  of  the  Romans.  Let  no 
man  think  that  we  have  thus  spoken  out  of  a design  to  accuse 
these  noble  men ; fit  is  merely  an  expression  of  frank  indigna- 
tion in  their  own  behalf,  at  seeing  them  thus  wasting  all  their 
other  virtues  upon  that  of  bravery,  and  throwing  away  theii 


500 


ARISTIDES. 


lives,  as  if  the  loss  would  be  only  felt  by  themselves,  and  not 
by  their  country,  allies,  and  friends. 

After  Pelopidas’s  death,  his  friends,  for  whom  he  died,  made 
a funeral  for  him ; the  enemies,  by  whom  he  had  been  killed, 
made  one  for  Marcellus.  A noble  and  happy  lot  indeed  the 
former  ; yet  there  is  something  higher  and  greater  in  the  admi- 
ration rendered  by  enemies  to  the  virtue  that  had  been  their 
own  obstacle,  than  in  the  grateful  acknowledgments  of  friends. 
Since,  in  the  one  case,  it  is  virtue  alone  that  challenges  itself 
the  honor ; while,  in  the  other,  it  may  be  rather  men’s  per- 
sonal profit  and  advantage  that  is  the  real  origin  of  what  they 
do. 


ARISTIDES. 

Aristides,  the  son  of  Lysimachus,  was  of  the  tribe  Anti- 
ochis,  and  township  of  Alopece.  As  to  wealth,  statements 
differ  ; some  say  he  passed  his  life  in  extreme  poverty,  and 
left  behind  him  two  daughters  whose  indigence  long  kept 
them  unmarried  ; but  Demetrius,  the  Phalerian,  in  opposition 
to  this  general  report,  professes  in  his  Socrates,  to  know  a 
farm  at  Phalerum  going  by  Aristides’s  name,  where  he  was  in- 
terred ; and,  as  marks  of  his  opulence,  adduces  first,  the 
office  of  archon  eponymus,  which  he  obtained  by  the  lot  of  the 
bean  ; which  was  confined  to  the  highest  assessed  families, 
called  the  Pentacosiomedimni ; second,  the  ostracism,  which 
was  not  usually  inflicted  on  the  poorer  citizens,  but  on  those 
of  great  houses,  whose  station  exposed  them  to  envy ; third  and 
last,  that  he  left  certain  tripods  in  the  temple  of  Bacchus,  of- 
ferings for  his  victory  in  conducting  the  representation  of  dra- 
matic performances,  which  were  even  in  our  age  still  to  be 
seen,  retaining  this  inscription  upon  them,  The  tribe  An* 
tiochis  obtained  the  victory  : Aristides  defrayed  the  charges  : 
Archestratus’s  play  was  acted.”  But  this  argument,  though 
in  appearance  the  strongest,  is  of  the  least  moment  of  any. 
For  Epaminondas,  who  all  the  world  knows  was  educated,  and 
lived  his  whole  life  in  much  poverty,  and  also  Plato,  the  phi- 
losopher, exhibited  magnificent  shows,  the  one  an  entertain- 
ment of  flute  players,  the  other  of  dithyraffibic  singers  ; Dion, 
the  Syracusan,  supplying  the  expenses  of  the  latter,  and  Pe- 
lopidas  those  of  Epaminondas.  For  good  men  do  not  allow 


ARISTIDES. 


SO* 


themselves  in  any  inveterate  and  irreconcilable  hostility  to  re- 
ceiving presents  from  their  friends,  but  while  looking  upon 
those  that  are  accepted  to  be  hoarded  up  and  with  avaricious 
intentions,  as  sordid  and  mean,  they  do  not  refuse  such  as, 
apart  from  all  profit,  gratify  the  pure  love  of  honor  and  mag- 
nificence. Panaetius,  again,  shows  that  Demetrius  was  de- 
ceived concerning  the  tripod  by  an  identity  of  name.  For, 
from  the  Persian  war  to  the  end  of  the  Peloponnesian,  there 
are  upon  record  only  two  of  the  .name  of  Aristides,  who  de- 
frayed the  expense  of  representing  plays  and  gained  the  prize, 
neither  of  which  was  the  same  with  the  son  of  Lysimarhus  ; 
but  the  father  of  the  one  was  Xenophilus,  and  the  other  lived 
at  a much  later  time,  as  the  way  of  writing,  which  is  that  in 
use  since  the  time  of  Euclides,  and  the  addition  of  the  name 
of  Archestratus  prove,  a name  which,  in  the  time  of  the  Per- 
sian war,  no  writer  mentions,  but  which  several,  during  the 
Peloponnesian  war,  record  as  that  of  a dramatic  poet.  The 
argument  of  Panaetius  requires  to  be  more  closely  considered. 
But  as  for  the  ostracism,  every  one  was  liable  to  it,  whom  his 
reputation,  birth,  or  eloquence  raised  above  the  common 
level ; insomuch  that  even  Damon,  preceptor  to  Pericles,  was 
thus  banished,  because  he  seemed  a man  of  more  than  ordi- 
nary sense.  And,  moreover,  Idomeneus  says,  that  Aristides 
was  not  made  archon  by  the  lot  of  the  bean,  but  the  free  elec- 
tion of  the  people.  And  if  he  held  the  office  after  the  battle 
of  Plataea,  as  Demetrius  himself  has  written,  it  is  very  probable 
that  his  great  reputation  and  success  in  the  war,  made  him 
be  preferred  for  his  virtue  to  an  office  which  others  received 
in  consideration  of  their  wealth.  But  Demetrius  manifestly 
is  eager  not  only  to  exempt  Aristides,  but  Socrates  likewise, 
from  poverty,  as  from  a great  evil ; telling  us  that  the  latter 
had  not  only  a house  of  his  own,  but  also  seventy  minae  put 
out  at  interest  with  Crito. 

Aristides  being  the  friend  and  supporter  of  that  Clisthenes, 
who  settled  the  government  after  the  expulsion  of  the  tyrants 
and  emulating  and  admiring  Lycurgus,  the  Lacedaemonian, 
above  all  politicians,  adhered  to  the  aristocratical  prin-ciples 
of  government ; and  had  Themistocles,  son  to  Neocles,  his 
adversary  on  the  side  of  the  populace.  Some  say  that,  being 
boys  and  bred  up  together  from  their  infancy,  they  were  always 
at  variance  with  each  other  in  all  their  words  and  actions  as 
well  serious  as  playful,  and  that  in  this  their  early  contention 
they  soon  made  proof  of  their  natural  inclinations ; the  one 
being  ready,  adventurous,  and  subtle,  engaging  readily  and 


502 


ARISTIDES. 


eagerly  in  every diing  ; the  other  of  a staid  and  settled  temper^ 
intent  on  the  exercise  of  justice,  not  admitting  any  degree  ot 
falsity,  indecorum,  or  trickery,  no,  not  so  much  as  at  his  play. 
Ariston  of  Chios  says  the  first  origin  of  the  enmity  which  rose 
to  so  great  a height,  was  a love  affair ; they  were  rivals  for 
the  affection  of  the  beautiful  Stesilaus  of  Ceos,  and  were 
passionate  beyond  all  moderation,  and  did  not  lay  aside  their 
animosity  when  the  beauty  that  had  excited  it  passed  away  : 
but,  as  if  it  had  only  exercised  them  in  it,  immediately  carried 
their  heats  and  differences  into  public  business. 

Themistocles,  therefore,  joining  an  association  of  partisans, 
fortified  himself  with  considerable  strength  ; insomuch  that 
when  some  one  told  him  that  were  he  impartial,  he  would 
make  a good  magistrate  ^ “ I wish,’'  replied  he,  “ I may  never 
sit  on  that  tribunal  where  my  friends  shall  not  plead  a greater 
privilege  than  strangers.”  But  Aristides  walked,  so  to  say, 
alone  on  his  own  path  in  politics,  being  unwilling,  in  the  first 
place,  to  go  along  \yith  his  associates  in  ill  doing,  or  to  cause 
them  vexation  by  not  gratifying  their  wishes  ; and,  secondly, 
observing  that  many  were  encouraged  by  the  support  they 
had  in  their  friends  to  act  injuriously,  he  was  cautious ; being 
of  opinion  that  the  integrity  of  his  words  and  actions  was  the 
only  right  security  for  a good  citizen. 

However, Themistocles  making  many  dangerous  alterations, 
and  withstanding  and  interrupting  him  in  the  whole  series  of 
his  actions.  Aristides  also  was  necessitated  to  set  himself 
against  all  Themistocles  did,  partly  in  self-defence,  and  partly 
to  impede  his  power  from  still  increasing  by  the  favor  of  the 
multitude ; esteeming  it  better  to  let  slip  some  public  conveiv 
iences,  rather  than  that  he  by  prevailing  should  become  power- 
ful in  all  things.  In  fine,  when  he  once  had  opposed  Themis- 
tocles in  some  measures  that  were  expedient,  and  had  got  the 
better  of  him,  he  could  not  refrain  from  saying,  when  he  left 
the  assembly,  that  unless  they  sent  Themistocles  and  himself 
to  the  barathrum,  there  could  be  no  safety  for  Athens. 
Another  time,  when  urging  some  proposal  upon  the  people, 
though  there  were  much  opposition  and  stirring  against  it,  he 
yet  was  gaining  the  day ; but  just  as  the  president  of  the 
assembly  was  about  to  put  it  to  the  vote,  perceiving  by  what 
had  been  said  in  debate  the  inexpediency  of  his  advice,  he  let 
it  fall.  Also  he  often  brought  in  his  bills  by  other  persons, 
lest  Themistocles,  through  party  spirit  against  him,  should  be 
any  hindrance  to  the  good  of  the  public. 

In  all  the  vicissitudes  of  public  affairs,  the  constancy  he 


ARISTIDES. 


showed  was  admirable,  not  being  elated  with  honors,  and 
demeaning  himself  tranquilly  and  sedately  in  adversity ; hold- 
ing the  opinion  that  he  ought  to  offer  himself  to  the  service 
of  his  country  without  mercenary  views  and  irrespectively  of 
any  reward,  not  only  of  riches,  but  even  of  glory  itself.  Hence 
it  came,  probably,  that  at  the  recital  of  these  verses  of  ^schy- 
lus  in  the  theatre,  relating  to  Amphiaraus, 

For  not  at  seeming  just,  but  being  so 

lie  aims  ; and  from  his  depth  of  soil  below 

Harvests  of  wise  and  prudent  counsels  grow, 

the  eyes  of  all  the  spectators  turned  on  Aristides,  as  if  this 
virtue,  in  an  especial  manner,  belonged  to  him. 

He  was  a most  determined  champion  for  justice,  not  only 
against  feelings  of  friendship  and  favor,  but  wrath  and  malice. 
Thus  it  is  reported  of  him  that  when  prosecuting  the  law 
against  one  who  was  his  enemy,  on  the  judges  after  accusation 
refusing  to  hear  the  criminal,  and  proceeding  immediately  to 
pass  sentence  upon  him,  he  rose  in  haste  from  his  seat  and 
joined  in  petition  with  him  for  a hearing,  and  that  he  might 
enjoy  the  privilege  of  the  law.  Another  time,  when  judging 
between  two  private  persons,  on  the  one  declaring  his  adver- 
sary had  very  much  injured  Aristides ; Tell  me  rather, 
good  friend,’’  he  said,  what  wrong  he  has  done  you  ; for  it 
is  your  cause,  not  my  own,  which  I now  sit  judge  of.”  Being 
chosen  to  the  charge  of  the  public  revenue,  he  made  it  appear, 
that  not  only  those  of  his  time,  but  the  preceding  officers,  had 
alienated  much  treasure,  and  especially  Themistocles : — 

Well  known  he  was  an  able  man  to  be, 

But  with  his  fingers  apt  to  be  too  free. 

Therefore,  Themistocles  associating  several  persons  against 
Aristides,  and  impeaching  him  when  he  gave  in  his  accounts, 
caused  him  to  be  condemned  of  robbing  the  public  ; so  Ido- 
meneus  states  ; but  the  best  and  chiefest  men  of  the  city 
much  resenting  it,  he  was  not  only  exempted  from  the  fine  im- 
posed upon  him,  but  likewise  again  called  to  the  same  employ- 
ment. Pretending  now  to  repent  him  to  his  former  practice, 
and  carrying  himself  with  more  remissness,  he  became  accept- 
able to  such  as  pillaged  the  treasury,  by  not  detecting  or 
calling  them  to  an  exact  account.  So  that  those  who  had 
their  fill  of  the  public  money  began  highly  to  applaud  Aristider, 
and  sued  to  the  people  making  interest  to  have  him  once  more 
chosen  treasurer.  But  when  they  were  upon  the  point  of 
election,  he  reproved  the  Athenians.  ‘‘  When  I discharged 


5^4 


ARISTIDES 


my  office  well  and  faithfully/’  said  he,  I was  insulted  Sxid 
abused  ; but  now  that  I have  allowed  the  public  thieves  in  a 
variety  of  malpractices,  I am  considered  an  admirable  patriot. 
I am  more  ashamed,  therefore,  of  this  present  honor  than  of 
the  former  sentence  ; and  I commiserate  your  condition,  with 
whom  it  is  more  praiseworthy  to  oblige  ill  men  than  to  con- 
serve the  revenue  of  the  public.”  Saying  thus,  and  proceed- 
ing to  expose  the  thefts  that  had  been  coihmitted,  he  stopped 
the  mouths  of  those  who  cried  him  up  and  vouched  for  him 
but  gained  real  and  true  commendation  from  the  best  men. 

When  Datis,  being  sent  by  Darius  under  pretence  of  pun- 
ishing the  Athenians  for  their  burning  of  Sardis,  but  in  reality 
to  reduce  the  Greeks  under  his  dominion,  landed  at  Marathon 
and  laid  waste  the  country,  among  the  ten  commanders  ap- 
pointed by  the  Athenians  for  the  war,  Miltiades  was  of  the 
greatest  name  ; but  the  second  place,  both  for  reputation  and 
power,  was  possessed  by  Aristides  : and  when  his  opinion  to 
join  battle  was  added  to  that  of  Miltiades,  it  did  much  to 
incline  the  balance.  Every  leader  by  his  day  having  the 
command  in  chief  when  it  came  to  Aristides’  turn,  he  delivered 
it  into  the  hands  of  Miltiades,  showing  his  fellow  officers,  that 
it  is  not  dishonorable  to  obey  and  follow  wise  and  able  men, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  noble  and  prudent.  So  appeasing  their 
rivalry,  and  bringing  them  to  acquiesce  in  one  and  the  best 
advice,  he  confirmed  Miltiades  in  the  strength  of  an  undivided 
and  unmolested  authority.  For  now  every  one,  yielding  his 
day  of  command,  looked  for  orders  only  to  him.  During  the 
fight  the  main  body  of  the  Athenians  being  the  hardest  put  to 
it,  the  barbarians,  for  a long  time,  making  opposition  there 
against  the  tribes  Leontis  and  Antiochis,  Themistocles  and 
Aristides  being  ranged  together,  fought  valiantly  ; the  one 
being  of  the  tribe  Leontis,  the  other  of  the  Antiochis.  But 
after  they  had  beaten  the  barbarians  back  to  their  ships,  and 
perceived  that  they  sailed  not  for  the  isles,  but  were  driven  in 
by  the  force  of  sea  and  wind  towards  the  country  of  Attica, 
fearing  lest  they  should  take  the  city,  unprovided  of  defence, 
they  hurried  away  thither  with  nine  tribes,  and  reached  it  the 
same  day.  Aristides,  being  left  with  his  tribe  at  Marathon  to 
guard  the  plunder  and  prisoners,  did  not  disappoint  the  opinion 
they  had  of  him.  Amidst  the  profusion  of  gold  and  silver,  all 
sorts  of  apparel,  and  other  property,  more  than  can  be  men- 
tioned, that  were  in  the  tents  and  the  vessels  which  they  had 
taken,  he  neither  felt  the  desire  to  meddle  with  any  thing 
himself,  nor  suffered  others  to  do  it ; unless  it  might  be  some 


ARISTIDES. 


50s 

who  took  away  any  thing  unknown  to  him  ; as  Callias,  the 
torch-bearer,  did.  One  of  the  barbarians,  it  seems,  prostrated 
himself  before  this  man,  supposing  him  to  be  a king  by  his 
hair  and  fillet ; and,  when  he  had  so  done,  taking  him  by  the 
hand,  showed  him  a great  quantity  of  gold  hid  in  a ditch. 
But  Callias,  most  cruel  and  impious  of  men,  took  away  the 
treasure,  but  slew  the  man,  lest  he  should  tell  of  him.  Hence, 
they  say,  the  comic  poets  gave  his  family  the  name  of  Laccch 
pluti^  or  enriched  by  the  ditch,  alluding  to  the  place  where 
Callias  found  the  gold.  Aristides,  immediately  after  this,  was 
archon  ; although  Demetrius,  the  Phelerian,  says  he  field  the 
office  a little  before  he  died  after  the  battle  of  Platma.  But 
in  the  records  of  the  successors  of  Xanthippides,  111  whose 
year  Mardonius  was  overthrown  at  Plataea,  amongst  very  many 
there  mentioned,  there  is  not  so  much  as  one  of  the  same 
name  as  Aristides  ; while  immediately  after  Phaenippus,  during 
whose  term  of  ofhce  they  obtained  the  victory  of  Marathon, 
Aristides  is  registered. 

Of  all  his  virtues,  the  common  people  were  most  affected 
with  his  justice,  because  of  its  continual  and  common  use  ; 
and  thus,  although  of  mean  fortune  and  ordinary  birth,  he 
possessed  himself  of  the  most  kingly  and  divine  appellation 
of  Just;  which  kings  however  and  tyrants  have  never  sought 
after ; but  have  taken  delight  to  be  surnamed  besiegers  of 
cities,  thunderers,  conquerors,  or  eagles  again,  and  hawks  ; 
affecting,  it  seems,  the  reputation  which  proceeds  from  power 
and  violence,  rather  than  that  of  virtue.  Although  the 
divinity,  to  whom  they  desire  to  compare  and  assimilate  them- 
selves, excels,  it  is  supposed,  in  three  things,  immortality, 
power,  and  virtue  ; of  which  three  the  noblest  and  divinest  is 
virtue.  For  the  elements  and  vacuum  have  an  everlasting 
existence ; earthquakes,  thunders,  storms,  and  torrents  have 
great  power ; but  in  justice  and  equity  nothing  participates 
except  by  means  of  reason  and  the  knowledge  of  that  which 
is  divine.  And  thus,  taking  the  three  varieties  of  feeling 
commonly  entertained  towards  the  deity,  the  sense  of  his  hap- 
piness, fear,  and  honor  of  him,  people  would  seem  to  think 
him  blest  and  happy  for  his  exemption  from  death  and  corrup- 
• tion,  to  fear  and  dread  him  for  his  power  and  dominion,  but  to 
love,  honor,  and  adore  him  for  his  justice.  Yet  though  thus 
disposed,  they  covet  that  immortality  which  our  nature  is  not 
capable  of,  and  that  power  the  greatest  part  of  which  is  at  the 
disposal  of  fortune  ; but  give  virtue,  the  only  divine  good 
really  in  our  reach,  the  last  place,  most  unwisely  ; since  justice 


ARISTIDES. 


sob 

makes  the  life  qf  such  as  are  in  prosperity,  power,  and  author 
ity  the  life  of  a god,  and  injustice  turns  it  to  that  of  a beast. 

Aristides,  therefore,  had  at  first  the  fortune  to  be  beloved 
for  this  surname,  but  at  length  envied.  Especially  when 
Themistocles  spread  a rumor  amongst  the  people,  that,  by 
determining  and  judging  all  matters  privately,  he  had  de- 
stroyed the  courts  of  judicature,  and  was  secretly  making  way 
for  a monarchy  in  his  own  person,  without  the  assistance  of 
guards.  Moreover,  the  spirit  of  the  people,  now  grown  high, 
and  confident  with  their  late  victory,  naturally  entertained 
feelings  of  dislike  to  all  of  more  than  common  fame  and 
reputation.  Coming  together,  therefore,  from  all  parts  into 
the  city,  they  banished  Aristides  by  the  ostracism,  giving 
their  jealousy  of  his  reputation  the  name  of  fear  of  tyranny. 
For  ostracism  was  not  the  punishment  of  any  criminal  act, 
but  was  speciously  said  to  be  the  mere  depression  and  humili- 
ation of  excessive  greatness  and  power ; and  was  in  fact  a 
gentle  relief  and  mitigation  of  envious  feeling,  which  was 
thus  allowed  to  vent  itself  in  inflicting  no  intolerable  injury, 
only  a ten  years’  banishment.  But  after  it  came  to  be  exer- 
cised upon  base  and  villanous  fellows,  they  desisted  from 
it ; Hyperbolus  being  the  last  whom  they  banished  by  the 
ostracism. 

The  cause  of  Hyperbolus’s  banishment  is  said  to  have 
been  this.  Alcibiades  and  Nicias,  men  that  bore  the  great- 
est sway  in  the  city,  were  of  different  factions.  As  the  people, 
therefore,  were  about  to  vote  the  ostracism,  and  obviously  to 
decree  it  against  one  of  them,  consulting  together  and  uniting 
their  parties,  they  contrived  the  banishment  of  Hyperbolus. 
Upon  which  the  people,  being  offended,  as  if  some  contempt 
or  affront  was  put  upon  the  thing,  left  off  and  quite  abolished 
it.  It  was  performed,  to  be  short,  in  this  manner.  Every 
one  taking  an  ostracoii^  a sherd,  that  is,  or  piece  of  earthen- 
ware, wrote  upon  it  the  citizen’s  name  he  would  have  ban- 
ished, and  carried  it  to  a certain  part  of  the  market-place 
surrounded  with  wooden  rails.  First,  the  magistrates  num- 
bered all  the  sherds  in  gross  (for  if  there  were  less  than  six 
thousand,  the  ostracism  was  imperfect)  ; then,  laying  every 
name  by  itself,  they  pronounced  him  whose  name  was  written  • 
by  the  larger  number,  banished  for  ten  years,  with  the  enjoy- 
ment of  his  estate.  As,  therefore,  they  were  writing  the 
names  on  the  sherds,  it  is  reported  that  an  illiterate  clownish 
fellow,  giving  Aristides  his  sherd,  supposing  him  a common 
citizen,  begged  him  to  write  Aristides  upon  it ; and  he  being 


ARISTIDES. 


5^7 

surprised  and  asking  if  Aristides  had  ever  done  him  any  in- 
jury, None  at  all,’’  said  he,  neither  know  I the  man  ; but 
I am  tired  of  hearing  him  everywhere  called  the  Just.”  Aris- 
tides, hearing  this,  is  said  to  have  made  no  reply,  but  re- 
turned the  sherd  with  his  own  name  inscribed.  At  his  de- 
parture from  the  city,  lifting  up  his  hands  to  heaven,  he  made 
a prayer  (the  reverse,  it  would  seem,  of  that  of  Achilles), 
that  the  Athenians  might  never  have  any  occasion  which 
should  constrain  them  to  remember  Aristides. 

Nevertheless,  three  years  after,  when  Xerxes  marched 
through  Thessaly  and  Boeotia  into  the  country  of  Attica,  re- 
pealing the  law,  they  decreed  the  return  of  the  banished  : 
chiefly  fearing  Aristides,  lest,  joining  himself  to  the  enemy, 
he  should  corrupt  and  bring  over  many  of  his  fellow-citizens 
to  the  party  of  the  barbarians;  much  mistaking  the  man, 
who,  already  before  the  decree,  was  exerting  himself  to  excite 
and  encourage  the  Greeks  to  the  defence  of  their  liberty. 
And  afterwards,  when  Themistocles  was  general  with  absolute 
power,  he  assisted  him  in  all  ways  both  in  action  and  coun- 
sel ; rendering,  in  consideration  of  the  common  security,  the 
greatest  enemy  he  had  the  most  glorious  of  men.  For  when 
Eurybiades  was  deliberating  to  desert  the  isle  of  Salamis,  and 
the  galleys  of  the  barbarians  putting  out  by  night  to  sea  sur- 
rounded and  beset  the  narrow  passage  and  islands,  and  no- 
body was  aware  how  they  were  environed,  Aristides,  with 
great  hazard,  sailed  from  ^gina  through  the  enemy’s  fleet ; 
and  coming  by  night  to  Themistocles’s  tent,  and  calling 
him  out  by  himself ; “If  we  have  any  discretion,”  said  he, 
“Themistocles,  laying  aside  at  this  time  our  vain  and  childish 
contention,  let  us  enter  upon  a safe  and  honorable  dispute, 
vying  with  each  other  for  the  preservation  of  Greece ; you  in 
the  ruling  and  commanding,  I in  the  subservient  and  advising 
part ; even,  indeed,  as  I now  understand  you  to  be  alone 
adhering  to  the  best  advice,  in  counselling  without  any  delay 
to  engage  in  the  straits.  And  in  this,  though  our  own  party 
oppose,  the  eneifty  seems  to  assist  you.  For  the  sea  behind, 
and  all  around  us,  is  covered  with  their  fleet ; so  that  we  are 
under  a necessity  of  approving  ourselves  men  of  courage,  and 
fighting,  whether  we  will  or  no;  for  there  is  no  room  left  us 
for  flight.”  To  which  Themistocles  answered,  “I  would  not 
willingly,  Aristides,  be  overcome  by  you  on  this  occasion  ; 
and  shall  endeavor,  in  emulation  of  this  good  beginning,  to 
outdo  it  in  my  actions.”  Also  relating  to  him  the  stratagem 
he  had  framed  against  the  barbarians,  he  entreated  him  to 


ARISTIDES. 


508 

persuade  Eurybiades  and  show  him,  how  it  was  impossible* 
they  should  save  themselves  without  an  engagement ; as  he 
was  the  more  likely  to  be  believed.  Whence,  in  the  council 
of  war,  Cleocritus,  the  Corinthian,  telling  Themistocles  that 
Aristides  did  not  like  his  advice  as  he  was  present  and  said 
nothing,  Aristides  answered.  That  he  should  not  have  held 
his  peace,  if  Themistocles  had  not  been  giving  the  best  ad- 
vice ; and  that  he  was  now  silent  not  out  of  any  good-will  to 
the  person,  but  in  approbation  of  his  counsel. 

Thus  the  Greek  captains  were  employed.  But  Aristides 
perceiving  Psyttalea,  a small  island  that  lies  within  the  straits 
over  against  Salamis,  to  be  filled  by  a body  of  the  enemy,  put 
aboard  his  small  boats  the  most  forward  and  courageous  of 
his  countrymen,  and  went  ashore  upon  it ; and,  joining  battle 
with  the  barbarians,  slew  them  all,  except  such  more  re- 
markable persons  as  were  taken  alive.  Amongst  these  were 
three  children  of  Sandauce,  the  king’s  sister,  whom  he  im- 
mediately sent  away  to  Themistocles,  and  it  is  stated  that  in 
accordance  with  a ceitain  oracle,  they  were,  by  the  command 
of  Euphrantides,  the  seer,  sacrificed  to  Bacchus,  called  Omes- 
tes,  or  the  devourer.  But  Aristides,  placing  armed  men  all 
around  the  island,  lay  in  wait  for  such  as  were  cast  upon  it, 
to  the  intent  that  none  of  his  friends  should  perish,  nor  an) 
of  his  enemies  escape.  For  the  closest  engagement  of  the 
ships,  and  the  main  fury  of  the  whole  battle,  seems  to  have 
been  about  this  place  ; for  which  reason  a trophy  was  erected 
in  Psyttalea. 

After  the  fight,  Themistocles,  to  sound  Aristides,  told  him 
they  had  performed  a good  piece  of  service,  but  there  was  a 
better  yet  to  be  done,  the  keeping  Asia  in  Europe,  by  sailing 
forthwith  to  the  Hellespont,  and  cutting  in  sunder  the  bridge. 
But  Aristides,  with  an  exclamation,  bid  him  think  no  more  of 
it,  but  deliberate  and  find  out  means  for  removing  the  Mede, 
as  quickly  as  possible,  out  of  Greece ; lest  being  enclosed, 
through  want  of  means  to  escape,  necessity  should  compel 
him  to  force  his  way  with  so  great  an  army. " So  Themistocles 
once  more  despatched  Arnaces,  the  eunuch,  his  prisoner,  giv- 
ing him  in  command  privately  to  advertise  the  king  that  he 
had  diverted  the  Greeks  from  their  intention  of  setting  sail 
for  the  bridges,  out  of  the  desire  he  felt  to  preserve  him. 

Xerxes,  being  much  terrified  with  this,  immediately  hasted 
to  the  Hellespont.  But  Mardonius  was  left  with  the  most 
serviceable  part  of  the  army,  about  three  hundred  thousand 
men,  and  was  a formidable  enemy,  confident  in  his  infantry, 


ARISTIDES. 


and  writing  messages  of  defiance  to  the  Giceks  : You  have 
overcome  by  sea  men  accustomed  to  fight  on  land,  and  un- 
skilled at  the  oar ; but  there  lies  now  the  open  country  of 
Thessaly  ; and  the  plains  of  Boeotia  offer  a broad  and  worthy 
field  for  brave  men,  either  horse  or  foot,  to  contend  in.’’  But 
he  sent  privately  to  the  Athenians,  both  by  letter  and  word 
^ of  mouth  from  the  king,  promising  to  rebuild  their  city,  to 
give  them  a vast  sum  of  money,  and  constitute  them  lords  of 
all  Greece,  on  condition  they  were  not  engaged  in  the  war. 
The  Lacedaemonians,  receiving  news  of  this,  and  fearing, 
despatched  an  embassy  to  the  Athenians,  entreating  that 
they  would  send  their  wives  and  children  to  Sparta,  and  re- 
ceive support  from  them  for  their  superannuated.  For,  being 
despoiled  both  of  their  city  and  country,  the  people  were 
suffering  extreme  distress.  Having  given  audience  to  the 
ambassadors,  they  returned  an  answer,  upon  the  motion  of 
Aristides,  worthy  of  the  highest  admiration  ; declaring,  that 
they  forgave  their  enemies  if  they  thought  all  things  purchas- 
able by  wealth,  than  which  they  knew  nothing  of  greater 
value  ; but  that  they  felt  offended  at  the  Lacedaemonians,  for 
looking  only  to  their  present  poverty  and  exigence,  without 
any  remembrance  of  their  valor  and  magnanimity,  offering 
them  their  victuals  to  fight  in  the  cause  of  Greece.  Aris- 
tides, making  this  proposal  and  bringing  back  the  ambas- 
sadors into  the  assembly,  charged  them  to  tell  the  Lacedae- 
monians, that  all  the  treasure  on  the  earth  or  under  it,  was  of 
less  value  with  the  people  of  Athens,  than  the  liberty  of 
Greece.  And,  showing  the  sun  to  those  who  came  from  Mar- 
donius,  ‘‘  as  long  as  that  retains  the  same  course,  so  long,” 
said  he,  shall  the  citizens  of  Athens  wage  war  with  the  Per- 
sians for  the  country  which  has  been  wasted,  and  the  temples 
that  have  been  profaned  and  burnt  by  them.”  Moreover,  he 
proposed  a decree,  that  the  priests  should  anathematize  him 
who  sent  any  herald  to  the  Medes,  or  deserted  the  alliance 
of  Greece. 

When  Mardonius  made  a second  incursion  into  the  coun- 
try of  Attica,  the  people  passed  over  again  into  the  isle  or 
Salamis.  Aristides,  being  sent  to  Lacedaemon,  reproved 
them  for  their  delay  and  neglect  in  abandoning  Athens  once 
more  to  the  barbarians  ; and  demanded  their  assistance  for 
that  part  of  Greece,  which  was  not  yet  lost.  The  Ephori, 
hearing  this,  made  show  of  sporting  all  day,  and  of  carelessly 
keeping  holy  day  (for  they  were  then  celebrating  the  Hyacin- 
thian  festival),  but  in  the  night,  selecting  five  thousand  Spar 


ARISTIDES. 


510 

tans,  each  of  whom  was  attended  by  seven  Helots,  they  sent 
them  forth  unknown  to  those  from  Athens.  And  when  Aris- 
tides again  reprehended  them,  they  told  him  in  derision  that 
he  either  doted  or  dreamed,  for  the  army  was  already  at 
Oresteum,  in  their  march  towards  the  strangers;  as  they 
called  the  Persians.  Aristides  answered,  that  they  jested  un- 
seasonably, deluding  their  friends,  instead  of  their  enemies. 
Thus  says  Idomeneus.  But  in  the  decree  of  Aristides,  not 
himself,  but  Cimon,  Xanthippus,  and  Myronides  are  ap 
pointed  ambassadors. 

Being  chosen  general  for  the  war,  he  repaired  to  Plalaea, 
with  eight  thousand  Athenians,  where  Pausanias,  generalis- 
simo of  all  Greece,  joined  him  with  the  Spartans  ; and  the 
forces  of  the  other  Greeks  came  into  them.  The  whole  en- 
campment of  the  barbarians  extended  all  along  the  bank  of 
the  river  Asopus,  their  numbers  being  so  great,  there  was  no 
enclosing  them  all,  but  their  baggage  and  most  valuable 
things  were  surrounded  with  a square  bulwark,  each  side  of 
which  was  the  length  of  ten  furlongs. 

Tisamenus,  the  Elean,  had  prophesied  to  Pausanias  and 
all  the  Greeks,  and  foretold  them  victory  if  they  made  no  at- 
tempt upon  the  enemy,  but  stood  on  their  defence.  But  Aris- 
tides sending  to  Delphi,  the  god  answered,  that  the  Athenians 
should  overcome  their  enemies,  in  case  they  made  supplication 
to  Jupiter  and  Juno  of  Cithaeron,  Pan,  and  the  nymphs 
Sphragitides,  and  sacrificed  to  the  heroes  Androcrates,  Leu- 
con,  Pisander,  Damocrates,  Hypsion,  Actaeon,  and  Polyidus  ; 
and  if  they  fought  within  their  own  territories  in  the  plain  of 
Ceres  Eleusinia  and  Proserpine.  Aristides  was  perplexed 
upon  the  tidings  of  this  oracle  ; since  the  heroes  to  whom  it 
commanded  him  to  sacrifice  had  been  chieftains  of  the  Platan 
ans,  and  the  cave  of  the  nymphs  Sphragitides  was  on  the  top 
of  Mount  Cithaeron,  on  the  side  facing  the  setting  sun  of  sum- 
mer time  \ in  which  place,  as  the  story  goes,  there  was  former- 
ly an  oracle,  and  many  that  lived  in  the  district  were  inspired 
with  it,  whom  they  called  Nyrnpholepti^  possessed  with  the 
nymphs.  But  the  plain  of  Ceres  Eleusinia,  and  the  offer  of 
victory  to  the  Athenians,  if  they  fought  in  their  own  territories, 
recalled  them  again,  and  transferred  the  war  into  the  countr)^ 
of  Attica.  In  this  juncture,  Arimnestus,  who  commanded  the 
Plataeans,  dreamed  that  Jupiter,  the  Saviour,  asked  him  what  .he 
Greeks  had  resolved  upon ; and  that  he  answered,  “ To-morrow 
my  Lord,  we  march  our  army  to  Eleusis,  and  there  give  Ihf 
barbarians  battle  according  to  the  directions  of  the  oracle  o1 


ARISIIDES. 


Apollo.”  And  that  the  god  replied,  they  were  utterly  mis- 
taken, for  ,that  the  places  spoken  of  by  the  oracle  were 
within  the  bounds  of  Plataea,  and  if  they  sought  there 
they  should  find  them.  This  manifest  vision  having  ap- 
peared to  Arimnestus,  when  he  awoke  he  sent  for  the  most 
aged  and  experienced  of  his  countrymen,  with  whom  commu- 
nicating and  examining  the  matter,  he  found  that  near  Hysiae, 
at  the  foot  of  Mount  Cithaeron,  there  was  a very  ancient 
temple  called  the  temple  of  Ceres  Eleusinia  and  Prosernine 
He  therefore  forthwith  took  Aristides  to  the  place,  which  was 
very  convenient  for  drawing  up  an  army  of  foot,  because  the 
slopes  at  the  bottom  of  the  mountain  Cithaeron  rendered  the 
plain,  where  it  comes  up  to  the  temple,  unfit  for  the  move- 
ments of  cavalry.  Also,  in  the  same  place,  there  was  the  fane 
of  Androcrates,  environed  with  a thick  shady  grove.  And 
that  the  oracle  might  be  accomplished  in  all  particulars  for 
the  hope  of  victory,  Arimnestus  proposed,  and  the  Plataeans 
decreed,  that  the  frontiers  of  their  country  towards  Attica 
should  be  removed,  and  the  land  given  to  the  Athenians, 
that  they  might  fight  in  defence  of  Greece  in  their  own  proper 
territory.  This  zeal  and  liberality  of  the  Plataeans  became  so 
famous,  that  Alexander,  many  years  after,  when  he  had  ob- 
tained the  dominion  of  all  Asia,  upon  erecting  the  walls  of 
Plataea,  caused  proclamation  to  be  made  by  the  herald  at  the 
Olympic  games,  that  the  king  did  the  Plataeans  this  favor  in 
consideration  of  their  nobleness  and  magnanimity,  because, 
in  the  war  with  the  Medes,  they  freely  gave  up  their  land  and 
zealously  fought  with  the  Greeks. 

The  Tegeatans,  contesting  the  post  of  honor  with  the  Athe- 
nians, demanded  that,  according  to  custom,  the  Lacedaemonians 
being  ranged  on  the  right  wing  of  the  battle,  they  might  have 
the  left,  alleging  several  matters  in  commendation  of  their  an- 
cestors. The  Athenians  being  indignant  at  the  claim,  Aristides 
came  forward  : “ To  contend  with  the  Tegeatans,”  said  he, 
^ for  noble  descent  and  valor,  the  present  time  permits  not ; 
but  this  we  say  to  you,  O you  Spartans,  and  you  the  rest  of 
the  Greeks,  that  place  neither  takes  away  nor  contributes 
courage ; we  shall  endeavor  by  crediting  and  maintaining  the 
post  you  assign  us,  to  reflect  no  dishonor  on  our  former  per- 
formances. P"or  we  are  come,  not  to  differ  with  our  friends, 
but  to  fight  our  enemies  ; not  to  extol  our  ancestors,  but  our- 
selves to  behave  as  valiant  men.  This  battle  will  manifest 
how  much  each  city,  captain,  and  private  soldier  is  worth  to 
Greece.”  The  council  of  war,  upon  this  address,  decided  for 
the  Athenians,  and  gave  them  the  other  wing  of  the  battle. 


ARISTIDES. 


5^2 

^ill  Greece  being  in  suspense,  and  especially  the  affairs  of 
the  Athenians  unsettled,  certain  persons  of  great  families  and 
possessions  having  been  impoverished  by  the  war,  and  seeing 
all  their  authority  and  reputation  in  the  city  vanished  with 
their  wealthy  and  others  in  possession  of  their  honors  and 
places,  convened  privately  at  a house  in  Plataea,  and  conspired 
for  the  dissolution  of  the  democratic  government ; and,  if  the 
plot  should  not  succeed,  to  ruin  the  cause  and  betray  all  to  the 
barbarians.  These  matters  being  in  agitation  in  the  camp, 
and  many  persons  already  corrupted,  Aristides,  perceiving  the 
design,  and  dreading  the  present  juncture  of  time,  determined 
neither  to  let  the  business  pass  unanimadverted  upon,  nor  yet 
altogether  to  expose  it ; not  knowing  how  many  the  accusa- 
tion mdght  reach,  and  willing  to  set  bounds  to  his  justice  with 
a view  to  the  public  convenience.  Therefore,  of  many  that 
were  concerned,  he  apprehended  eight  only,  two  of  whom, 
who  were  first  proceeded  against  and  most  guilty,  ^schines 
of  lyampra,  and  Agesias  of  Acharnoe,  made  their  escape  out  ol 
the  camp.  The  rest  he  dismissed  ; giving  opportunity  to  such 
as  thought  themselves  concealed,  to  take  courage  and  repent ; 
intimating  that  they  had  in  the  war  a great  tribunal,  where 
they  might  clear  their  guilt  by  manifesting  their  sincere  and 
good  intentions  towards  their  country. 

After  this,  Mardonius  made  trial  of  the  Grecian  courage,  by 
sending  his  whole  number  of  horse,  in  which  he  thought  him- 
self much  the  stronger,  against  them,  while  they  were  all 
pitched  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Cith^ron,  in  strong  and  rocky 
places,  except  the  Megarians.  They,  being  three  thousand  in 
number,  were  encamped  on  the  plain,  where  they  were 
damaged  by  the  horse  charging  and  making  inroads  upon 
them  on  all  hands.  They  sent,  therefore,  in  haste  to  Pausa- 
nias,  demanding  relief,  as  not  being  able  alone  to  sustain  the 
great  numbers  of  the  barbarians.  Pausanias,  hearing  this, 
and  perceiving  the  tents  of  the  Megarians  already  hid  by  the 
multitude  of  darts  and  arrows,  and  themselves  driven  together 
into  a narrow  space,  was  at  a loss  himself  how  to  aid  them 
with  his  battalion  of  heavy-armed  Lacedaemonians.  He  pro- 
posed it,  therefore,  as  a point  of  emulation  in  valor  and  love 
of  distinction,  to  the  commanders  and  captains  who  were 
around  him,  if  any  would  voluntarily  take  upon  them  the  de- 
fence and  succor  of  the  Megarians.  The  rest  being  back- 
ward, Aristides  undertook  the  enterprise  for  the  Athenians, 
and  sent  Olympiodorus,  the  most  valiant  of  his  inferior  offi- 
cers, with  three  hundred  chosen  men  and  some  archers  undei 


ARISTIDES. 


S13 

his  command.  These  being  soon  in  readiness,  and  running 
upon  the  enemy,  as  soon  as  Masistius,  who  commanded  the 
barbarians’  horse,  a man  of  wonderful  courage  and  of  extra- 
ordinary bulk  and  comeliness  of  person,  perceived  it,  turning 
his  steed  he  made  towards  them.  And  they  sustaining  the 
shock  and  joining  battle  with  him,  there  was  a sharp  conflict, 
as  though  by  this  encounter  they  were  to  try  the  success  of 
the  whole  war.  But  after  Masistius’s  horse  received  a wound, 
and  flung  nim,  and  he  falling  could  hardly  raise  himself 
thrdbgh  the  weight  of  his  armor,  the  Athenians,  pressing  upon 
him  with  blows,  could  not  easily  get  at  his  person,  armed  as 
he  was,  his  breast,  his  head,  and  his  limbs  all  over,  with  gold 
and  brass  and  iron  ; but  one  of  them  at  last,  running  him  in 
at  the  visor  of  his  helmet,  slew  him  ; and  the  rest  of  the  Per- 
sians, leaving  the  body,  fled.  The  greatness  of  the  Greek 
success  was  known,  not  by  the  multitude  of  the  slain  (for  an 
inconsiderable  number  were  killed),  but  by  the  sorrow  the 
barbarians  expressed.  For  they  shaved  themselves,  their 
horses,  and  mules  for  the  death  of  Masistius,  and  filled  the 
plain  with  howling  and  lamentation  ; having  lost  a person, 
who,  next  to  Mardonius  himself,  was  by  many  degrees  the 
chief  among  them,  both  for  valor  and  authority. 

After  this  skirmish  of  the  horse,  they  kept  from  fight- 
ing a long  time  ; for  the  soothsayers,  by  the  sacrifices,  fore- 
told the  victory  both  to  Greeks  and  Persians,  if  they  stood 
upon  the  defensive  part  only,  but  if  they  became  aggressors, 
the  contrary.  At  length  Mardonius,  when  he  had  but  a few 
days’  provision,  and  the  Greek  forces  increased  continually 
by  some  or  other  that  came  into  them,  impatient  of  delay,  de- 
termined to  lie  still  no  longer,  but  passing  Asopus  by  day- 
break, to  fall  unexpectedly  upon  the  Greeks ; and  signified 
the  same  over  night  to  the  captains  of  his  host.  But  about 
midnight,  a certain  horseman  stole  into  the  Greek  camp,  and 
coming  to  the  watch,  desired  them  to  call  Aristides,  the  Athe- 
nian, to  him.  He  coming  speedily  ; I am,”  said  the  stranger 
“Alexander,  king  of  the  Macedonians,  and  am  arrived  here 
tdirough  the  greatest  danger  in  the  world  for  the  good-will  I 
bear  you,  lest  a sudden  onset  should  dismay  you,  so  as  to  be- 
have in  the  fight  worse  than  usual.  For  to-morrow  Mardo- 
nius will  give  you  battle,  urged,  not  by  any  hope  of  success  or 
courage,  but  by  want  of  victuals  ; since,  indeed,  the  prophets 
prohibit  him  the  battle,  the  sacrifices  and  oracles  being  unfa- 
vorable ; and  the  army  is  in  despondency  and  consternation  ; 
but  necessity  forces  him  to  try  his  fortune,  or  sit  still  and  en 

33 


ARISTIDES. 


514 

dure  tlie  last  extremity  of  want.’’  Alexander,  thus  saying, 
entreated  Aristides  to  take  notice  and  remember  him,  but  not 
to  tell  any  other.  But  he  told  him,  it  was  not  convenient  to 
conceal  the  matter  from  Pausanias  (because  he  was  general); 
as  for  any  other,  he  would  keep  it  secret  from  them  till  the 
battle  was  fought ; but  if  the  Greeks  obtained  the  victory, 
that  then  no  one  should  be  ignorant  of  Alexander’s  good-will 
ard  kindness  towards  them.  After  this,  the  king  of  the  Ma 
cedonians  rode  back  again,  and  Aristides  went  to  Pausanias’s 
tent  and  told  him  ; and  they  sent  for  the  rest  of  the  captains 
and  gave  orders  that  the  army  should  be  in  battle  array. 

Here,  according  to  Herodotus,  Pausanias  spoke  to  Aris- 
tides, desiring  him  to  transfer  the  Athenians  to  the  right  wing 
of  the  army  opposite  to  the  Persians  (as  they  would  do  better 
service  against  them,  having  been  experienced  in  their  way  of 
combat,  and  emboldened  with  former  victories),  and  to  give 
him  the  left,  where  the  Medizing  Greeks  were  to  make  their 
assault.  The  rest  of  the  Athenian  captains  regarded  this  as 
an  arrogant  and  interfering  act  on  the  part  of  Pausanias  ; be- 
cause, while  permitting  the  rest  of  the  army  to  keep  their 
stations,  he  removed  them  only  from  place  to  place,  like  so 
many  Helots,  opposing  them  to  the  greatest  strength  of  the 
enemy.  But  Aristides  said,  they  were  altogether  in  the 
wrong.  If  so  short  a time  ago  they  contested  the  left  wing 
with  the  Tegeatans,  and  gloried  in  being  preferred  before 
them,  now,  when  the  Lacedaemonians  give  them  place  in  the 
right,  and  yield  them  in  a manner  the  leading  of  the  army, 
how  is  it  they  are  discontented  with  the  honor  that  is  done 
them,  and  do  not  look  upon  it  as  an  advantage  to  have  to 
fight,  not  against  their  countrymen  and  kindred,  but  barbari- 
ans, and  such  as  were  by  nature  their  enemies  After  this, 
the  Athenians  very  readily  changed  places  with  the  Lacedae- 
monians, and  there  went  words  amongst  them  as  they  were 
encouraging  each  other,  that  the  enemy  approached  with  no 
better  arms  or  stouter  hearts  than  those  who  fought  the  battle 
of  Marathon  ; but  had  the  same  bows  and  arrows,  and  the 
same  embroidered  coats  and  gold,  and  the  same  delicate 
bod'es  and  effeminate  minds  within ; ‘‘  while  we  have  the 
same  weapons  and  bodies,  and  our  courage  augmented  by  our 
victories  ; and  fight  not  like  others  in  defence  of  our  country 
only,  but  for  the  trophies  of  Salamis  and  Marathon  ; that 
they  may  not  be  looked  upon  as  due  to  Miltiades  or  fortune, 
but  to  the  people  of  Athens.”  Thus,  therefore,  were  they 
making  haste  to  change  the  order  of  their  battle.  But  the 


ARISTIDES. 


5^5 

Thebans,  understanding  it  by  some  deserters,  forthwith  ac- 
quainted Mardonius  ; and  he,  either  for  fear  of  the  Atheni 
ans,  or  a desire  to  engage  the  Lacedaemonians,  marched  over 
his  Persians  to  the  other  wing,  and  commanded  the  Greeks  of 
his  party  to  be  posted  opposite  to  the  Athenians.  But  this 
change  was  observed  on  the  other  side,  and  Pausanias,  wheel- 
ing about  again,  ranged  himself  on  the  right,  and  Mardonius, 
also,  as  at  first,  took  the  left  wing  over  against  the  Lacedce- 
monians.  So  the  day  passed  without  action. 

After  this,  the  Greeks  determined  in  council  to  remove 
their  camp  some  distance,  to  possess  themselves  of  a place 
convenient  for  watering ; because  the  springs  near  them  were 
polluted  and  destroyed  by  the  barbarian  cavalry.  But  night 
being  come,  and  the  captains  setting  out  towards  the  place 
designed  for  their  camping,  the  soldiers  were  not  very  ready 
to  follow,  and  keep  in  a body,  but,  soon  as  they  had  quitted 
their  first  entrenchments,  made  towards  the  city  of  Plataea  ; 
and  there  was  much  tumult  and  disorder  as  they  dispersed  to 
various  quarters  and  proceeded  to  pitch  their  tents.  The 
Lacedaemonians,  against  their  will,  had  the  fortune  to  be  left 
by  the  rest.  For  Amonpharetus,  a brave  and  daring  man, 
who  had  long  been  burning  with  desire  of  the  fight,  and  re- 
sented their  many  fingerings  and  delays,  calling  the  removal 
of  the  camp  a mere  running  away  and  flight,  protested  he 
would  not  desert  his  post,  but  would  there  remain  with  his 
company,  and  sustain  the  charge  of  Mardonius.  And  when 
Pausanias  came  to  him  and  told  him  he  did  do  these  things 
by  the  common  vote  and  determination  of  the  Greeks,  Amom- 
pharetus  taking  up  a great  stone  and  flinging  it  at  Pausanias^ 
feet,  and  “ by  this  token,’^  said  he,  “ do  I give  my  suffrage  for 
the  battle,  nor  have  I any  concern  with  the  cowardly  consul- 
tations and  decrees  of  other  men.’’  Pausanias,  not  knowing 
what  to  do  in  the  present  juncture,  sent  to  the  Athenians,  who 
were  drawing  off,  to  stay  to  accompany  him ; and  so  he  him- 
self set  off  with  the  rest  of  the  army  for  Plataea,  hoping  thus 
to  make  Amompharetus  move. 

Meantime,  day  came  upon  them  ; and  Mardonius  (for  he 
was  not  ignorant  of  their  deserting  their  camp)  having  his 
army  in  array,  fell  upon  the  Lacedaemonians  with  great  shout- 
ing and  noise  of  barbarous  people,  as  if  they  were  not  about 
to  join  battle,  but  crush  the  Greeks  in  their  flight.  Which 
within  a very  little  came  to  pass.  For  Pausanias,  perceiving 
what  was  done,  made  a halt,  and  commanded  every  one  to 
put  themselves  in  order  for  the  battle  ; but  either  through  his 


ARISTIDES. 


anger  with  Amompharetus,  or  the  disturbance  he  was  in  by 
reason  of  the  sudden  approach  of  the  enemy,  he  forgot  to 
give  the  signal  to  the  Greeks  in  general.  Whence  it  was, 
that  they  did  not  come  in  immediatel}^  or  in  a body,  to  theii 
assistance,  but  by  small  companies  and  straggling,  when  the 
fight  was  already  begun.  Pausanias,  offering  sacrifice,  could 
not  procure  favorable  omens,  and  so  commanded  the  Lace- 
daemonians, setting  down  their  shields  at  their  feet,  to  abide 
quietly  and  attend  his  directions,  making  no  resistance  to  any 
of  their  enemies.  And  he  sacrificing  again  a second  time, 
the  horse  charged,  and  some  of  the  Lacedaemonians  were 
wounded.  At  this  time,  also,  Callicrates,  who  we  are  told, 
was  the  most  comely  man  in  the  army,  being  shot  with  an 
arrow  and  upon  the  point  of  expiring,  said,  that  he  lamented 
not  his  death  (for  he  came  from  home  to  lay  down  his  life  in 
the  defence  of  Greece)  but  that  he  died  without  action.  The 
case  was  indeed  hard,  and  the  forbearance  of  the  men  won- 
derful ; for  they  let  the  enemy  charge  without  repelling  them  • 
and,  expecting  their  proper  opportunity  from  the  gods  and 
their  general,  suffered  themselves  to  be  wounded  and  slain  in 
their  ranks.  And  some  say,  that  while  P.ausanias  was  at  sac- 
rifice and  prayers,  some  space  out  of  the  battle-array,  certain 
Lydians,  falling  suddenly  upon  him,  plundered  and  scattered 
the  sacrifice  : and  that  Pausanias  and  his  company,  having  no 
arms,  beat  them  with  staves  and  whips  ; and  that  in  imitation 
of  this  attack,  the  whipping  the  boys  about  the  altar,  and 
after  it  the  Lydian  procf'  .sion,  are  to  this  day  practised  in 
Sparta. 

Pausanias,  therefore,  being  troubled  at  these  things,  while 
the  priest  went  on  rifering  one  sacrifice  after  another,  turns 
himself  towards  th^  temple  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  lifting 
up  his  hands  to  heaven,  besought  Juno  of  Cithaeron,  and  the 
other  tutelar  gods  of  the  Plataeans,  if  it  were  not  in  the  fates 
for  the  Greek'i  to  obtain  the  victory,  that  they  might  not  per- 
ish without  performing  some  remarkable  thing,  and  by  their 
actioAis  den  onstrating  to  their  enemies,  that  they  waged  war 
with  men  » i courage,  and  soldiers.  While  Pausanias  was  thus 
in  the  ac'  of  supplication,  the  sacrifices  appeared  propitiouSj 
and  the  soothsayers  foretold  victory.  The  word  being  given, 
the  La  jedaemonian  battalion  of  foot  seemed,  on  the  sudden, 
like  same  one  fierce  animal,  setting  up  his  bristles,  and  be- 
takirg  himself  to  the  combat;  and  the  barbarians  perceived 
tha  they  encountered  with  men  who  would  fight  it  to  the 
h.  Therefore,  holding  their  wicker-shields  before  them 


ARISTIDES. 


5^7 

they  shot  their  anows  amongst  the  Lacedsemonians.  But 
they,  keeping  together  in  the  order  of  a phalanx,  and  falling 
upon  the  enemies,  forced  their  shields  out  of  their  hands,  and, 
striking  with  their  pikes  at  the  breasts  and  faces  of  the  Per- 
sians, overthrew  many  of  them,  who,  however,  fell  not  either 
unrevenged  or  without  courage.  For  taking  hold  of  the 
spears  with  their  bare  hands,  they  broke  many  of  them,  ar.d 
betook  themselves  not  without  effect  to  the  sword  ; and  mak- 
ing use  of  their  falchions  and  scimitars,  and  wresting  the  La 
cedcemonians’  shields  from  them,  and  grappling  with  them,  it 
was  a long  time  that  they  made  resistance. 

Meanwhile,  for  some  time,  the  Athenians  stood  still,  wait- 
ing for  the  Lacedaemonians  to  come  up.  But  when  they 
heard  much  noise  as  of  men  engaged  in  fight,  and  a messen- 
ger, they  say,  came  frum  Pausanias,  to  advertise  them  of  what 
was  going  on,  they  soon  hasted  to  their  assistance.  And  as 
they  passed  through  the  plain  to  the  place  where  the  noise 
was,  the  Greeks,  who  took  part  with  the  enemy,  came  upon 
them.  Aristides,  as  soon  as  he  saw  them,  going  a considera- 
ble space  before  the  restj  cried  out  to  them,  conjuring  them 
by  the  guardian  gods  of  Greece  to  forbear  the  fight,  and  be 
no  impediment  or  stop  to  those  who  were  going  to  succor  the 
defenders  of  Greece.  But  when  he  perceived  they  gave  no 
attention  to  him,  and  had  prepared  themselves  for  the  battle, 
then  turning  from  the  present  relief  of  the  Lacedaemonians, 
he  engaged  them,  being  five  thousand  in*  number.  But  the 
greatest  part  soon  gave  way  and  retreated,  as  the  barbarians 
also  were  put  to  flight.  The  sharpest  conflict  is  said  to  have 
been  against  the  Thebans,  the  chiefest  and  most  powerful 
persons  among  them  at  that  time  siding  zealously  with  the 
Medes,  and  leading  the  multitude  not  according  to  their  own 
inclinations,  but  as  being  subjects  of  an  oligarchy. 

The  battle  being  thus  divided,  the  Lacedaemonians  first 
beat  off  the  Persians  ; and  a Spartan,  named  Arimnestus, 
slew  Mardonius  by  a blow  on  the  head  with  a stone,  as  the 
oracle  in  the  temple  of  Amphiaraus  had  foretold  to  him.  Foi 
Mardonius  sent  a Lydian  thither,  and  another  person,  a Ca- 
rian,  to  the  cave  of  Trophonius.  This  latter,  the  priest  of 
the  oracle  answered  in  his  own  language.  But  the  Lydian 
sleeping  in  the  temple  of  Amphiaraus,  it  seemed  to  him  that 
a minister  of  the  divinity  stood  before  him  and  commanded 
him  to  be  gone  ; and  on  his  refusing  to  do  it,  flung  a great 
stone  at  his  head,  so  that  he  thought  himself  slain  with 
the  blow.  Such  is  the  story. — They  drove  the  fliers  withia 


ARISTIDES. 


518 

their  walls  of  wood ; and,  a little  time  after,  the  Athenians 
put  the  Thebans  to  flight,  killing  three  hundred  of  the 
chiefest  and  of  greatest  note  among  them  in  the  actual 
fight  itself.  For  when  they  began  to  fly,  news  came  that  the 
army  of  the  barbarians  was  besieged  within  their  palisade  j 
and  so  giving  the  Greeks  opportunity  to  save  themselves,  they 
marched  to  assist  at  the  fortifications  ; and  coming  in  to  the 
Lacedaemonians,  who  were  altogether  unhandy  and  unexpe- 
rienced in  storming,  they  took  the  camp  with  great  slaughter 
of  the  enemy.  For  of  three  hundred  thousand,  forty  thousand 
only  are  said  to  have  escaped  with  Artabazus  ; while  on  the 
Greeks’  side  there  perished  in  all  thirteen  hundred  and  sixty; 
of  which  fifty-two  were  Athenians,  all  of  the  tribe  Mantis, 
that  fought,  says  Clidemus,  wuth  the  greatest  courage  of  any; 
and  for  this  reason  the  men  of  this  tribe  used  to  offer  sacrifice 
for  the  victory,  as  enjoined  by  the  oracle,  to  the  nymphs 
Sphragitides  at  the  expense  of  the  public ; ninety-one  were 
Lacedaemonians,  and  sixteen  Tegeatans.  It  is  strange,  there- 
fore, upon  w^hat  grounds  Herodotus  can  say,  that  they  only, 
and  none  other,  encountered  the  enemy  ; for  the  number  of 
the  slain  and  their  monuments  testify  that  the  victory  was  ob- 
tained by  all  in  general ; and  if  the  rest  had  been  standing 
still,  while  the  inhabitants  of  three  cities  only  had  been  en- 
gaged in  the  fight,  they  would  not  have  set  on  the  altar  the 
inscription  : 

The  Greeks,  when  by  their  courage  and  their  might, 

They  had  repelled  the  Persian  in  the  fight, 

The  common  altar  of  freed  Greece  to  be, 

Reared  this  to  Jupiter  who  guards  the  free. 

They  fought  this  battle  on  the  fourth  day  of  the  month  Boe- 
dromion,  according  to  the  Athenians,  but  according  to  the 
Boeotians,  on  the  twenty-seventh  of  Panemus ; — on  which  day 
there  is  still  a convention  of  the  Greeks  at  Plataea,  and  the 
Plataeans  still  offer  sacrifice  for  the  victory  to  Jupiter  of  free- 
dom. As  for  the  difference  of  days,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at,  since  even  at  the  present  time,  when  there  is  a far  more 
accurate  knowledge  of  astronomy,  some  begin  the  month  at 
one  time,  and  some  at  another. 

After  this,  the  Athenians  not  yielding  the  honor  of  the 
day  to  the  Lacedaemonians,  nor  consenting  they  should  erect 
a trophy,  things  were  not  far  from  being  ruined  by  dissension 
among  the  armed  Greeks ; had  not  Aristides,  by  much  sooth- 
ing and  counselling  the  commanders,  especially  Leocrates 
and  Myronides,  pacified  and  persuaded  them  to  leave  th^ 


ARISTIDES. 


519 

thing  to  the  decision  of  the  Greeks.  And  c-n  their  proceeding 
to  discuss  the  matter,  Theogiton,  the  Megarian,  declared  the 
honor  of  the  victory  was  to  be  given  some  other  city,  if  they 
would  prevent  a civil  war;  after  him  Cleocritus  of  Corinth 
rising  up,  made  people  think  he  would  ask  the  palm  for  the 
Corinthians  (for  next  to  Sparta  and  Athens,  Corinth  was  in 
greatest  estimation)  ; but  he  delivered  his  opinion,  to  the 
general  admiration,  in  favor  of  the  Plataeans  ; and  counselled 
to  take  away  all  contention  by  giving  them  the  reward  and 
glory  of  the  victory,  whose  being  honored  could  be  distaste- 
ful to  neither  party.  This  being  said,  first  Aristides  gave 
consent  in  the  name  of  the  Athenians,  and  Pausanias,  then, 
for  the  Lacedaemonians.  So,  being  reconciled,  they  set  apart 
eighty  talents  for  the  Plataeans,  with  which  they  built  the  tem- 
ple and  dedicated  the  image  to  Minerva,  and  adorned  the 
temple  with  pictures,  which  even  to  this  very  day  retain  their 
lustre.  But  the  Lacedaemonians  and  Athenians,  each  erected 
a trophy  apart  by  themselves.  On  their  consulting  the  oracle 
about  offering  sacrifice,  Apollo  answered,  that  they  should 
dedicate  an  altar  to  Jupiter  of  freedom,  but  should  not  sacri- 
fice till  they  had  extinguished  the  fires  throughout  the  coun- 
try, as  having  been  defiled  by  the  barbarians,  and  had  kindled 
unpolluted  fire  at  the  common  altar  at  Delphi.  The  magis- 
trates of  Greece,  therefore,  went  forthwith  and  compelled  such 
as  had  fire  to  put  it  out ; and  Euchidas,  a Plataean,  prom- 
ising to  fetch  fire,  \?ith  all  possible  speed,  from  the  altar  of 
the  god,  went  to  Delphi,  and  having  sprinkled  and  purified 
his  body,  crowned  himself  with  laurel  ; and  taking  the  fire 
from  the  altar  ran  back  to  Plataea,  and  got  back  there  before 
sunset,  performing  in  one  day  a journey  of  a thousand  fur- 
longs ; and  saluting  his  fellow-citizens  and  delivering  them 
the  fire,  he  immediately  fell  down,  and  in  a short  time  after 
expired.  But  the  Plataeans,  taking  him  up,  interred  him  in 
the  temple  of  Diana  Euclia,  setting  this  inscription  over  him : 
‘‘Euchidas  ran  to  Delphi  and  back  again  in  one  day.”  Most 
people  believe  that  Euclia  is  Diana,  and  call  her  by  that 
name.  But  some  say  she  was  the  daughter  of  Hercules,  by 
Myrto,  the  daughter  of  Menoetius,  and  sister  of  Patroclus, 

1 nd,  d3fing  a virgin,  was  worshipped  by  the  Boeotians  and 
Locrians.  Her  altar  and  image  are  set  up  in  all  their  mark- 
et-places, and  those  of  both  sexes  that  are  about  marrying, 
sacrifice  to  her  before  the  nuptials. 

A general  assembly  of  all  the  Greeks  being  called,  Aristh 
des  proposed  a decree,  that  the  deputies  and  religious  repro* 


520 


ARISTIDES. 


sentatives  of  the  Greek  states  should  assemble  annually  at 
Plataea,  and  every  fifth  year  celebrate  the  Eleutheria  or  games 
of  freedom.  And  that  there  should  be  a levy  upon  all  Greece 
for  the  war  against  the  barbarians,  of  ten  thousand  spear-mem 
one  thousand  horse,  and  a hundred  sail  of  ships  ; but  the 
Plataeans  to  be  exempt,  and  sacred  to  the  service  of  the  gods, 
offering  sacrifice  for  the  welfare  of  Greece.  These  things  be- 
ing ratified,  the  Platseans  undertook  the  performance  of  an- 
nual sacrifice  to  such  as  were  slain  and  buried  in  that  place  j 
whicli  they  still  perform  in  the  following  manner.  On  the 
s.xteenth  day  of  M^macterion  (which  with  the  Boeotians  is 
Alalcomenus)  they  make  their  procession,  which,  beginning 
by  break  of  day,  is  led  by  a trumpeter  sounding  for  onset ; 
then  follow  certain  chariots  loaded  with  myrrh  and  garlands  ; 
and  then  a black  bull ; then  come  the  young  men  of  free,  birth 
carrying  libations  of  wine  and  milk  in  large  two-handed  ves- 
sels, and  jars  of  oil  and  precious  ointments,  none  of  servile 
condition  being  permitted  to  have  any  hand  in  this  ministra- 
tion, because  the  men  died  in  defence  of  freedom  ; after  all 
comes  the  chief  magistrate  of  Plataea  (for  whom  it  is  unlawful 
at  other  times  either  to  touch  iron,  or  wear  any  other  colored 
garment  but  white),  at  that  time  apparelled  in  a purple  robe ; 
and,  taking  a water-pot  out  of  the  city  record-office,  he  pro- 
ceeds, bearing  a sword  in  his  hand,  through  the  middle  of  the 
town  to  the  sepulchres.  Then  drawing  water  out  of  a spring, 
he  washes  and  anoints  the  monuments,*  and  sacrificing  the 
bull  upon  a pile  of  wood,  and  making  supplication  to  Jupiter 
and  Mercury  of  the  earth,  invites  those  valiant  men  who  per- 
ished in  the  defence  of  Greece,  to  the  banquet  and  the  liba- 
tions of  blood.  After  this,  mixing  a bowl  of  wine,  and  pour- 
ing out  for  himself,  he  says,  ‘‘  I drink  to  those  who  lost  their 
lives  for  the  liberty  of  Greece.’’  These  solemnities  the  Pla- 
taeans observe  to  this  day. 

Aristides  perceived  that  the  Athenians,  after  their  return 
into  the  city,  were  eager  for  a democracy ; and  deeming  the 
people  to  deserve  consideration  on  account  of  their  valiant 
behavior,  as  also  that  it  was  a matter  of  difficulty,  they  being 
well  armed,  powerful,  and  full  of  spirit  with  their  victories,  to 
oppose  them  by  force,  he  brought  forward  a decree,  that  every 
one  might  share  in  the  government,  and  the  archons  be  chosen 
out  of  the  whole  body  of  the  Athenians.  And  on  The- 
mistocles  telling  the  people  in  assembly  that  he  had  some  ad- 
vice for  them,  which  could  not  be  given  in  public,  but  was 
most  important  for  the  advantage  and  security  of  the  city 


ARISTIDES. 


52^ 


they  appointed  Aristides  alone  to  hear  and  consider  it  with 
him.  And  on  his  acquainting  Aristides  that  his  intent  was  to 
set  fire  to  the  arsenal  of  the  Greeks,  for  by  that  means  should 
the  Athenians  become  supreme  masters  of  all  Greece,  Aristi- 
des, returning  to  the  assembly,  told  them,  that  nothing  was 
more  advantageous  than  what  Themistocles  designed,  and 
nothing  more  unjust.  The  Athenians,  hearing  this,  gave 
Themistocles  order  to  desist ; such  was  the  love  of  justice 
felt  by  the  people,  and  such  the  credit  and  confidence  they 
reposed  in  Aristides. 

Being  sent  in  joint  commission  with  Cimon  to  the  war,  he 
took  notice  that  Pausanias  and  the  other  Spartan  captains 
made  themselves  offensive  by  imperiousness  and  harshness  to 
the  confederates ; and  by  being  himself  gentle  and  consider- 
ate with  them,  and  by  the  courtesy  and  disinterested  temper 
which  Cimon,  after  his  example,  manifested  in  the  expeditions, 
he  stole  away  the  chief  command  from  the  Lacedaemonians, 
neither  by  weapons,  ships,  or  horses,  but  by  equity  and  wise 
policy.  For  the  Athenians  being  endeared  to  the  Greeks  by 
the  justice  of  Aristides  and  by  Cimon’s  moderation,  the  tyr- 
anny and  selfishness  of  Pausanias  rendered  them  yet  more 
desirable.  He  on  all  occasions  treated  the  commanders  of 
the  confederates  haughtily  and  roughly ; and  the  common 
soldiers  he  punished  with  stripes,  or  standing  under  the  iron 
anchor  for  a whole  day  together  ; , neither  was  it  permitted  for 
any  to  provide  straw  for  themselves  to  lie  on,  or  forage  for 
their  horses,  or  to  come  near  the  springs  to  water  before  the 
Spartans  were  furnished,  but  servants  with  whips  drove  away 
such  as  approached.  And  when  Aristides  once  was  about  to 
complain  and  expostulate  with  Pausanias,  he  told  him  with 
an  angry  look,  that  he  was  not  at  leisure,  and  gave  no  atten- 
tion to  him.  The  consequence  was  that  the  sea. captains  and 
generals  of  the  Greeks,  in  particular,  the  Chians,  Samians, 
and  Lesbians,  came  to  Aristides  and  requested  him  to  be 
their  general,  and  to  receive  the  confederates  into  his  com- 
mand, who  had  long  desired  to  relinquish  the  Spartans  and 
come  over  to  the  Athenians.  But  he  answered,  that  he  saw 
both  equity  and  necessity  in  what  they  said,  but  their  fidelity 
required  the  test  of  some  action,  the  commission  of  which 
would  make  it  impossible  for  the  multitude  to  change  their 
minds  again.  Upon  which  Uliades,  the  Samian,  and  Antag- 
oras  of  Chios,  conspiring  together,  ran  in  near  Byzantium  on 
Pausanias’s  galley,  getting  her  between  them  as  she  was  sail- 
ing before  the  rest.  But  when  Pausanias,  beholding  them, 


522 


ARISTIDES. 


arose  up  and  furiously  threatened  soon  to  make  them  knovf 
that  they  had  been  endangering  not  his  galley,  but  their  own 
countries,  they  bid  him  go  his  way,  and  thank  Fortune  that 
fought  for  him  at  Plataea ; for  hitherto,  in  reverence  to  that, 
the  Greeks  had  forborne  from  inflicting  on  him  the  punish- 
ment he  deserved.  In  fine,  they  all  went  off  and  joined  the 
Athenians.  And  here  the  magnanimity  of  the  Lacedaemo- 
nians was  wonderful.  For  when  they  perceived  that  their 
generals  were  becoming  corrupted  by  the  greatness  of  their 
authority,  they  voluntarily  laid  down  the- chief  command,  and 
left  off  sending  anymore  of  them  to  me  wars,  choosing  rather 
to  have  citizens  of  moderation  and  consistent  in  the  observ- 
ance of  their  customs,  than  to  possess  the  dominion  of  all 
Greece. 

Even  during  the  command  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  the 
Greeks  paid  a certain  contribution  towards  the  maintenance 
of  the  war ; and  being  desirous  to  be  rated  city  by  city  in 
their  due  proportion,  they  desired  Aristides  of  the  Athenians, 
and  gave  him  command,  surveying  the  country  and  revenue, 
to  assess  every  one  according  to  their  ability  and  what  they 
were  worth.  But  he,  being  so  largely  empowered,  Greece  as 
it  were  submitting  all  her  affairs  to  his  sole  management,  went 
out  poor,  and  returned  poorer  ; laying  the  tax  not  only  with- 
out corruption  and  injustice,  but  to  the  satisfaction  and  con- 
venience of  all.  For  as  the  ancients  celebrated  the  age  of 
Saturn,  so  did  the  confederates  of  Athens  Aristides’s  taxation, 
terming  it  the  happy  time  of  Greece ; and  that  more  espe- 
cially, as  the  sum  was  in  a short  time  doubled,  and  afterwards 
trebled.  For  the  assessment  which  Aristides  made,  was  four 
hundred  and  sixty  talents.  But  to  this  Pericles  added  very 
near  one  third  part  more ; for  Thucydides  says,  that  in  the 
beginning  of  ^the  Peloponnesian  war,  the  Athenians  had  com- 
ing in  from  their  confederates  six  hundred  talents.  But  af- 
ter Pericles’s  death,  the  demagogues,  increasing  by  little  and 
little,  raised  it  to  the  sum  of  thirteen  hundred  talents  ; not  so 
much  through  the  war’s  being  so  expensive  and  chargeable 
either  by  its  length  or  ill  success,  as  by  their  alluring  the  peo- 
ple to  spend  upon  largesses  and  play-house  allowances,  and 
in  erecting  statues  and  temples.  Aristides,  therefore,  having 
acquired  a wonderful  and  great  reputation  by  this  levy  of  the 
tribute,  Themistocles  is  said  to  have  derided  him,  as  if  this 
had  been  not  the  commendation  of  a man,  but  a money-bag  j 
a retaliation,  though  not  in  the  same  kind,  for  some  free  words 
Which  Aristides  had  used.  For  he,  when  Themistocles  onct 


ARISTIDES. 


523 


was  saying  that  he  thought  the  highest  virtue  of  a general  was 
to  understand  and  foreknow  the  measures  the  enemy  would 
take,  replied,  “ This,  indeed,  Themistocles,  is  simply  neces- 
sary, but  the  excellent  thing  in  a general  is  to  keep  his  hands 
from  taking  money.’’ 

Aristides,  moreover,  made  all  the  people  of  Greece  swear 
to  keep  the  league,  and  himself  took  the  oath  in  the  name 
of  the  Athenians,  flinging  wedges  of  red-hot  iron  into  the 
sea,  after  curses  against  such  as  should  make  breach  of  their 
vow.  But  afterwards,  it  would  seem,  when  things  were  in 
such  a state  as  constrained  them  to  govern  with  a stronger 
hand,  he  bade  the  Athenians  to  throw  the  perjury  upon  him, 
and  manage  affairs  as  convenience  required.  And,  in 
general,  Theophrastus  tells  us,  that  Aristides  w*as,  in  his 
own  private  affairs,  and  those  of  his  fellow-citizens,  rig- 
orously just,  but  that  in  public  matters  he  acted  often  in 
accordance  with  his  country’s  policy,  which  demanded,  some- 
times, not  a little  injustice.  It  is  reported  of  him  that  he 
said  in  a debate,  upon  the  motion  of  the  Samians  for  re- 
moving the  treasure  from  Delos  to  Athens,  contrary  to  the 
league,  that  the  thing  indeed  was  not  just  but  was  expedient. 

In  fine,  having  established  the  dominion  of  his  city  over 
so  many  people,  he  himself  remained  indigent ; and  always 
delighted  as  much  in  the  glory  of  being  poor,  as  in  that  of 
his  trophies  ; as  is  evident  from  the  following  story.  Callias, 
the  ^orch-bearer,  was  related  to  him  ; and  was  prosecuted 
by  his  enemies  in  a capital  cause,  in  which,  after  they  had 
slightly  argued  the  matters  on  which  they  indicted  him,  they 
proceeded,  besides  the  point,  to  address  the  judges : You 
know,”  said  they,  “ Aristides,  the  son  of  Lysimachus,  who  is 
the  admiration  of  all  Greece.  In  what  a condition  do  you 
think  his  family  is  in  at  his  house,  when  you  see  him  appear 
in  public  in  such  a threadbare  cloak  ? Is  it  not  probable  that 
one  who,  out  of  doors,  goes  thus  exposed  to  the  cold,  must 
^ want  food  and  other  necessaries  at  home  ? Callias,  the 
wealthiest  of  the  Athenians,  does  nothing  to  relieve  either 
liim  or  his  wife  and  children  in  their  poverty,  though  he  is 
his  own  cousin,  and  has  made  use  of  him  in  many  cases,  and 
often  reaped  advantage  by  his  interest  with  you.”  But  Cal- 
lias, perceiving  the  judges  were  moved  more  particularly  by 
this,  and  v/ere  exasperated  against  him,  called  in  Aristides, 
requiring  him  to  testify  that  when  he  frequently  offered  him 
divers  presents,  and  entreated  him  to  accept  them,  he  had  re- 
fused, answering,  that  it  became  him  better  to  be  proud  of 


524 


ARISTIDES. 


his  poverty  than  Callias  of  his  wealth  ; since  there  are  many 
to  be  seen  that  make  a good,  or  a bad  use  of  riches,  but  it  is 
difficult,  comparatively,  to  meet  with  one  who  supports  pover- 
ty in  a noble  spirit ; those  only  should  be  ashamed  of  it  who 
incurred  it  against  their  wills.  On  Aristides  deposing  these 
facts  in  favor  of  Callias,  there  was  none  who  heard  them, 
that  went  not  away  desirous  rather  to  be  poor  like  Aristides, 
than  rich  as  Callias.  Thus  ^d^schines,  the  scholar  of  Socrates, 
writes.  But  Plato  declares,  that  of  all  the  great  renowned 
men  in  the  city  of  Athens,  he  was  the  only  one  worthy  of 
consideration ; for  Themistocles,  Cimon,  and  Pericles  filled 
the  city  with  porticoes,  treasure,  and  many  other  vain  things 
but  Aristides  guided  his  public  life  by  the  rule  of  justice 
He  showed  his  moderation  very  plainly  in  his  conduct  to- 
wards Themistocles  himself.  For  though  Themistocles  had 
been  his  adversary  in  all  his  undertakings,  and  was  the  cause 
of  his  banishment,  yet  when  he  afforded  a similar  opportunity 
of  revenge,  being  accused  to  the  city,  Aristides  bore  him  no 
malice  ; but  while  Alcmaeon,  Cimon,  and  many  others,  were 
prosecuting  and  impeaching  him,  Aristides  alone,  neither  did 
nor  said  any  ill  against  him,  and  no  more  triumphed  over  his 
enemy  in  his  adversity,  than  he  had  envied  him  his  prosper- 

Some  say  Aristides  died  in  Pontus,  during  a voyage  upon 
the  affairs  of  the  public.  Others  that  he  died  of  old  age  at 
Athens  being  in  great  honor  and  venenation  amongst  his 
fellow-citizens.  But  Craterus,  tlie  Macedonian,  relates  his 
death  as  follows.  After  the  banishment  of  Themistocles,  he 
says,  the  people  growing  insolent,  there  sprung  up  a number 
of  false  and  frivolous  accusers,  impeaching  the  best  and  most 
influential  men  and  exposing  them  to  the  envy  of  the  multi- 
tude, whom  their  good  fortune  and  power  had  filled  with  self- 
conceit.  Amongst  these,  Aristides  was  condemned  of  bribery 
upon  the  accusation  ofiDiophantus  of  Amphitrope,  for  taking 
money  from  the  lonians  when  he  was  collector  of  the  tribute ; 
and  being  unable  to  pay  the  fine,  which  was  fifty  mina^,  sailed  * 
to  Ionia,  and  died  there.  But  of  this  Craterus  brings  no 
written  proof,  neither  the  sentence  of  his  condemnation,  nor 
the  decree  of  the  people;  though  in  general  it  is  toletiably 
usual  with  him  to  set  down  such  things  and  to  cite  his  authors. 
Almost  all  others  who  have  spoken  of  the  misdeeds  of  the 
people  towards  their  generals,  co-llect  them  all  together,  and 
tell  us  of  the  banishment  of  Themistocles,  Miltiades’s  bonds, 
Pericles’s  fine,  and  the  death  of  Paches  in  the  judgment  hall| 


ARISTIDES. 


S'^S 

who,  upon  receiving  sentence,  killed  himself  on  the  hustings, 
with  many  things  of  the  like  nature.  They  add  the  banish- 
ment of  Aristides ; but  of  this  his  condemnation,  they  make 
no  mention. 

Moreover,  his  monument  is  to  be  seen  at  Phalerum,  which 
they  say  was  built  him  by  the  city,  he  not  having  left  enough 
even  to  defray  funeral  charges:  And  it  is  stated,  that  his 
two  daughters  were  publicly  married  out  of  the  prytaneum,  or 
State-house,  by  the  city,  which  decreed  each  of  them  three 
thousand  drachmas  for  her  portion  ; and  that  upon  his  son 
Lysimachus,  the  people  bestowed  a hundred  minas  of  money, 
and  as  many  acres  of  pla.nted  land,  and  ordered  him  be- 
sides, upon  the  motion  of  Alcibiades,  four  drachmas  a day. 
Furthermore,  Lysimachus  leaving  a daughter,  named  Poly- 
crite,  as  Callisthenes  says,  the  people  voted  her,  also,  the 
same  allowance  for  food  with  those  that  obtained  the  vic- 
tory in  the  Olympic  Games.  But  Demetrius  the  Phalerian, 
Hieronymus  the  Rhodian,  Aristoxenus  the  musician,  and, 
Aristotle  (if  the  Treatise  of  Nobility  is  to  be  reckoned 
among  the  genuine  pieces  of  Aristotle),  say  that  Myrto, 
Aristides’s  granddaughter,  lived  with  Socrates  the  philosopher, 
who  indeed  had  another  wife,  but  took  her  into  his  house, 
being  a widow,  by  reason  of  her  indigence,  and  want  of  the 
necessaries  of  life.  But  Panaetius  sufficiently  confutes  this  in 
his  books  concerning  Socrates.  Demetrius  the  Phalerian,  in 
his  Socrates,  says,  he  knew  one  Lysimachus,  son  to  the 
daughter  of  Aristides,  extremely  poor,  who  used  to  sit  near 
what  is  called  the  laccheum,  and  sustained  himself  by  a table 
for  interpreting  dreams  ; and  that,  upon  his  proposal  and  rep- 
resentations, a decree  was  passed  by  the  people,  to  give  the 
mother  and  aunt  of  this  man  half  a drachma  a day.  The 
same  Demetrius,  when  he  was  legislating  himself,  decreed 
each  of  these  women  a drachma  per  diein.  And  it  is  not  to 
be  wondered  at,  that  the  people  of  Athens  should  take  such 
care  of  people  living  in  the  city,  since  hearing  the  grand* 
daughter  of  Aristogiton  was  in  a low  condition  in  the  isle  of 
Lemnos,  and  so  poor  nobody  would  marry  her,  they  brought 
her  back  to  Athens,  and,  marrying  her  to  a man  of  good  birth, 
gave  a farm  at  Potamus  as  her  marriage-portion  ; and  of 
similar  humanity  and  bounty  the  city  of  Athens,  even  in  our 
age,  has  g/ven  numerous  proofs,  and  is  justly  admired  and 
respected  in  consequence. 


526 


MARCUS  CA  lO. 


MARCUS  CATO. 

Ma^rcus  Cato,  we  are  told,  was  born  at  Tuscnlum,  though 
(till  he  betook  himself  to  civil  and  military  affairs)  he  lived 
and  was  bred  up  in  the  country  of  the  Sabines,  where  his 
father’s  estate  lay.  His  ancestors  seeming  almost  entirely 
unknown,  he  himself  praises  his  father  Marcus,  as  a worthy 
man  and  a brave  soldier,  and  Cato,  his  great-grandfather, 
too,  as  one  who  had  often  obtained  military  prizes,  and  who, 
having  lost  five  horses  under  him,  received,  on  the  ac- 
count of  his  valor,  the  worth  of  them  out  of  the  public 
exchequer.  Now  it  being  the  custom  among  the  Romans 
to  call  those  who,  having  no  repute  by  birth,  made  them- 
selves eminent  by  their  own  exertions,  new  men  or  upstarts, 
they  called  even  Cato  himself  so,  and  so  he  confessed  himself 
to  be  as  to  any  public  distinction  or  employment,  but  yet  as- 
serted that  in  the  exploits  and  virtues  of  his  ancestors  he 
was  very  ancient.  His  third  name  originally  was  not  Cato, 
but  Priscus,  though  afterwards  he  had  the  surname  of  Cato, 
by  reason  of  his  abilities  ; for  the  Romans  call  a skilful 
experienced  man  Catus.  He  was  of*^  ruddy^colnplexion,  "an^ 
grey-eyed ; as  tne^wricer,  who,  with  no  good-will,  made  the 
following  epigram  upon  him,  lets  us  see  : — 

Porcius,  who  snarls  at  all  in  every  place, 

With  his  grey  eyes,  and  with  his  fiery  face, 

Even  after  death  will  scarce  admitted  be 
Int©  the  infernal  realms  by  Plecate. 

He  gained,  in  early  life,  a good  habit  of  body  by  working 
with  his  own  hands,  and  living  temperately,  and  serving  in 
war ; and  seemed  to  have  an  equal  proportion  both  of  health 
and  strength.  And  he  exerted  and  practised  his  eloquence 
through  all  the  neighborhood  and  little  villages  ; thinking  it 
as  requisite  as  a second  body,  and  an  all  but  necessary  or- 
gan to  one  who  looks  forward  to  something  above  a mere 
humble  and  inactive  life.  He  would  never  refuse  to  be 
counsel  for  those  who  needed  him,  and  was,  indeed,  early 
reckoned  a good  lawyer,  and,  ere  long,  a capable  orator. 

Hence  his  solidity  and  depth  of  character  showed  itself 
gradually,  more  and  more  to  those  with  whom  he  was  con 
cerned,  and  claimed,  as  it  were,  employment  in  great  affairs, 


MARCUS  CATO. 


and  places  of  public  command.  Nor  did  he  merely  abstain 
from  taking  fees  for  his  counsel  and  pleading,  but  did  not 
even  seem  to  put  any  high  price  on  the  honor  which  pro- 
ceeded from  such  kind  of  combats  seeming  much  more  desir- 
ous to  signalize  himself  in  the  camp  and  in  real  fights ; and 
while  yet  but  a youth,  had  his  breast  covered  with  scars  he  had 
received  from  the  enemy  : being  (as  he  himself  says)  but  seven- 
teen years  old  when  he  made  his  first  campaign  ; in  the  time 
when  Hannibal,  in  the  height  of  his  success,  was  burning  and 
pillaging  all  Italy.  In  engagements  he  would  strike  boldly, 
without  flinching,  stand  firm  to  his  ground,  fix  a bold  coun- 
tenance upon  his  enemies,  and  with  a harsh  threatening  voice 
accost  them,  justly  thinking  himself  and  telling  others,  that 
such  a rugged  kind  of  behavior  sometimes  terrifies  the  enemy 
more  than  the  sword  itself.  In  his  marches,  he  bore  his  own 
arms  on  foot,  whilst  one  servant  only  followed,  to  carry  the 
provision  for  his  table,  with  whom  he  is  said  never  to  have 
been  angry  or  hasty,  whilst  he  made  ready  his  dinner  or  sup- 
per, but  would,  for  the  most  part,  when  he  was  free  from 
military  duty,  assist  and  help  him  himself  to  dress  it.  When 
he  was  with  the  army,  he  used  to  drink  only  water ; unless, 
perhaps,  when  extremely  thirsty,  he  might  mingle  it  with  a 
little  vinegar,  or  if  he  found  his  strength  fail  him,  take  a little 
wine. 

The  little  country  house  of  Manius  Curius,  who  had  been 
thrice  carried  in  triumph,  happened  to  be  near  his  farm  ; so 
that  often  going  thither,  and  contemplating  the  small  compass 
of  the  place,  and  plainness  of  the  dwelling,  he  formed  an 
idea  of  the  mind  of  the  person,  who  being  one  of  the  greatest 
of  the  Romans,  and  having  subdued  the  most  warlike  nations, 
nay,  had  driven  Pyrrhus  out  of  Italy,  now,  after  three  tri 
umphs,  was  contented  to  dig  in  so  small  a piece  of  ground, 
and  live  in  such  a cottage.  Here  it  was  that  the  ambassadors 
of  the  Samnites,  finding  him  boiling  turnips  in  the  chimney 
corner,  offered  him  a present  of  gold ; but  he  sent  them  away 
with  this  saying ; that  he,  who  was  content  with  such  a sup- 
per, had  no  need  of  gold  ; and  that  he  thought  it  more  honor- 
able to  conquer  those  who  possessed  the  gold,  than  to  possess 
the  gold  itself.  Cato,  after  reflecting  upon  these  things,  used 
to  return,  and  reviewing  his  own  farm,  his  servants,  and 
housekeeping,  increase  h>s  labor,  and  retrench  all  superflu- 
ous expenses. 

When  Fabius  Maximus  took  Tarentum,  Cato,  being  then  but 
a youth,  was  a soldier  under  him ; and  being  lodged  with  one 


5^8 


MARCUS  CATO. 


Nearcbus,  a Pythagorean,  desired  to  understand  some  of  his 
doctrine,  and  hearing  from  him  the  language,  which  Piato 
also  uses, — that  pleasure  is  evil’s  chief  bait ; the  body  the 
principal  calamity  of  the  soul  ; and  that  those  thoughts  which 
most  separate  and  take  it  olf  from  the  affections  of  the  body, 
most  enfranchise  and  purify  it  ; he  fell  in  love  the  more  with 
frugality  and  temperance.  With  this  exception,  he  is  said 
not  to  have  studied  Greek  until  when  he  was  pretty  old  ; and 
in  rhetoric,  to  have  then  profited  a little  by  Thucydides,  but 
more  by  Demosthenes  ; his  writings,  however,  are  consider- 
ably  embellished  with  Greek  sayings  and  stories;  nay,  many 
of  these,  translated  word  for  word,  are  placed  with  his  own 
apophthegms  and  sentences. 

d'here  was  a man  of  the  highest  rank,  and  very  influential 
among  the  Romans,  called  Valerius  Flaccus,  who  was  singu- 
larly skilful  in  discerning  excellence  yet  in  the  bud,  and  also 
much  disposed  to  nourish  and  advance  it.  He,  it  seems, 
had  lands  bordering  upon  Cato’s  : nor  could  he  but  admire 
when  he  understood  from  his  servants  the  manner  of  his 
living,  how  he  labored  with  his  own  hands,  went  on  foot  be- 
times in  the  morning  to  the  courts  to  assist  those  who  wanted 
his  counsel ; how,  returning  home  again,  when  it  was  winter, 
he  would  throw  a loose  frock  over  his  shoulders,  and  in  the 
summer  time  would  work  without  any  thing  on  among  his 
domestics,  sit  down  wdth  them,  eat  of  the  same  bread,  and 
drink  of  the  same  wine.  When  they  spoke,  also,  of  other 
good  qualities,  his  fair  dealing  and  moderation,  mentioning 
also  some  of  his  wise  sayings,  he  ordered,  that  he  should  be 
invited  to  supper  ; and  thus  becoming  personally  assured  of 
his  fine  temper  and  his  superior  character  which,  like  a plant, 
seemed  only  to  require  culture  and  a better  situation,  he 
urged  and  persuaded  him  to  apply  himself  to  state  affairs  at 
Rome.  Thither,  therefore,  he  went,  and  by  his  pleading 
soon  gained  many  friends  and  admirers  ; but,  Valerius  chieflj 
assisting  his  promotion,  he  first  of  all  got  appointed  tribune  ii 
the  army,  and  afterwards  was  made  quaestor,  or  treasurer. 
And  now  becoming  eminent  and  noted,  he  passed,  with  Vale- 
rius himself,  through  the  greatest  commands,  being  first  his 
colleague  as  consul,  and  then  censor.  But  among  all  the 
ancient  senators,  he  most  attached  himself  to  Fabius  Maxi- 
mus ; not  so  much  for  the  honor  of  his  person,  and  the  great- 
ness of  his  power,  as  that  he  might  have  before  him  his  habit 
and  manner  of  life,  as  the  best  examples  to  follow ; and  so 
he  did  not  hesitate  to  oppose  Scipio  the  Great,  who,  being 


MARCUS  CATO. 


529 


then  but  a young  man,  seemed  to  set  himself  against  the 
power  of  Fabius,  and  to  be  envied  by  him.  For  being  sent 
together  with  him  as  treasurer,  when  he  saw  him,  according 
to  his  natural  custom,  make  great  expenses,  and  distribute 
among  the  soldiers  without  sparing,  he  freely  told  him  that 
the  expense  in  itself  was  not  the  greatest  thing  to  be  consid- 
ered, but  that  he  was  corrupting  the  frugality  of  the  soldiers, 
by  giving  them  the  means  to  abandon  themselves  to  unneces- 
sary pleasures  and  luxuries.  Scipio  answered,  that  he  had 
no  need  for  so  accurate  a treasurer  (bearing  on  as  he  was,  so 
to  say,  full  sail  to  the  war),  and  that  he  owed  the  people  an 
account  of  his  actions,  and  not  of  the  money  he  spent.  Here- 
upon Cato  returned  from  Sicily  and,  together  with  Fabius, 
made  loud  complaints  in  the  open  senate  of  Scipio’s  lavishing 
unspeakable  sums,  and  childishly  loitering  away  his  time  in 
wrestling  matches  and  comedies,  as  if  he  were  not  to  make 
war,  but  holiday  • and  thus  succeeded  in  getting  some  of  the 
tribunes  of  the  people  sent  to  call  him  back  to  Rome,  in  case 
the  accusations  should  prove  true.  But  Scipio  demonstrating, 
as  it  were,  to  them,  by  his  preparations,  the  coming  victory, 
and,  being  found  merely  to  be  living  pleasantly  with  his 
friends,  when  there  was  nothing  else  to  do,  but  in  no  respect 
because  of  that  easiness  and  liberality  at  all  the  more  negli- 
gent in  things  of  consequence  and  moment,  without  impedi- 
ment, set  sail  toward  the  war. 

Cato  grew  more  and  more  powerful  by  his  eloquence,  so 
that  he  was  commonly  called  the  Roman  Demosthenes ; but 
his  manner  of  life  was  yet  more  famous  and  talked  of.  For 
oratorical  skill  was,  as  an  accomplishment,  commonly  studied 
and  sought  after  by  all  young  men  ; but  he  was  very  rare  who 
would  cultivate  the  old  habits  of  bodily  labor,  or  prefer  a 
light  supper,  and  a breakfast:  which  never  saw  the  fire,  or  be 
in  love  with  poor  clothes  and  a homely  lodging,  or  could  set 
k.is  ambition  rather  on  doing  without  luxuries  than  on  possess- 
ing them.  For  now  the  state,  unable  to  keep  its  purity  by 
season  of  its  greatness,  and  having  so  many  affairs,  and  peo- 
ple from  all  parts  under  its  government,  was  fain  to  admit 
many  mixed  customs,  and  new  examples  of  living.  With 
reason,  therefore,  everybody  admired  Cato,  when  they  saw 
others  sink  under  labors,  and  grow  effeminate  by  pleasures ; 
and  yet  beheld  him  unconquered  by  either,  and  that  not  only 
when  he  was  young  and  desirous  of  honor,  but  also  when  old 
and  grey-headed,  after  a consulship  and  triumph;  like  some 
famous  victor  in  the  games,  persevering  'n  his  exercise  and 


530 


MARCUS  CATO. 


maintaining  his  character  to  the  very  last.  He  himself  says, 
that  he  never  wore  a suit  of  clothes  which  cost  more  than  a 
hundred  drachmas  ; and  that,  when  he  was  general  and  consul, 
he  drank  the  same  wine  which  his  workmen  did  ; and  that 
the  meat  or  fish  which  was  bought  in  the  meat  market  for  his 
dinner,  did  not  cost  above  thirty  asses.  All  which  was  for 
the  sake  of  the  comnonwealth,  that  so  his  body  might  be  the 
hardier  for  the  war.  Having  a piece  of  embroidered  Babylo- 
nian tapestry  left  him,  he  sold  it ; because  none  of  his  farm- 
houses were  so  much  as  plastered.  Nor  did  he  ever  buy  a 
slave  for  above  fifteen  hundred  drachmas  ; as  he  did  not  seek 
for  effeminate  and  handsome  ones,  but  able  sturdy  workmen, 
horse-keepers  and  cow-herds  : and  these  he  thought  ought  to 
be  sold  again,  when  they  grew  old,  and  no  useless  servants 
fed  in  the  house.  In  short,  he  reckoned  nothing  a good  bar- 
gain, which  was  superfluous  ; but  whatever  it  was,  though 
sold  for  a farthing,  he  would  think  it  a great  price,  if  you  had 
no  need  of  it ; and  was  for  the  purchase  of  lands  for  sowing 
and  feeding,  rather  than  grounds  for  sweeping  and  watering. 

Some  imputed  these  things  to  petty  avarice,  but  others 
approved  of  him,  as  if  he  had  only  the  more  strictly  denied 
himself  for  the  rectifying  and  amending  of  others.  Yet  cer 
tainly,  in  my  judgement,  it  marks  an  over-rigid  temper,  for  a 
man  to  take  the  work  out  of  his  servants  as  out  of  brute 
ceasts,  turning  them  off  and  selling  them  in  their  old  age, 
and  thinking  there  ought  to  be  no  further  commerce  between 
man  and  man,  than  whilst  there  arises  some  profit  by  it.  We 
see  that  kindness  or  humanity  has  a larger  field  than  bare 
justice  to  exercise  itself  in ; law  and  justice  we  cannot,  in  the 
nature  of  things,  employ  on  others  than  men ; but  we  may 
extend  our  goodness  and  charity  even  to  irrational  creatures  ; 
and  such  acts  flow  from  a gentle  nature,  as  water  from  an 
abundant  spring.  It  is  doubtless  the  part  of  a kind-natured 
man  to  keep  even  worn-out  horses  and  dogs,  and  not  only 
take  :are  of  them  when  they  are  foals  and  whelps,  but  also 
when  they  are  grown  old.  The  Athenians,  when  they  built 
their  Hecatompedon,  turned  those  mules  loose  to  feed  freely, 
which  they  had  ooserved  to  have  done  the  hardest  labor. 
One  of  these  (they  say)  came  once  of  itself  to  offer  its  service, 
and  ran  along  with,  nay,  and  went  before,  the  teams  which 
drew  the  wagons  up  to  the  acropolis,  as  if  it  would  incite  and 
encourage  them  to  draw  more  stoutly  ; upon  which  there 
passed  a vote,  that  the  creature  should  be  kept  at  the  public 
charge  even  till  it  died.  The  graves  of  Cimon's  horses,  which 


MARCUS  CATO. 


S3J 


thrice  won  the  Olympian  races,  are  yet  to  be  seen  close  by  his 
own  monument.  Old  Xanthippus,  too  (amongst  many  others 
who  buried  the  dogs  they  had  bred  up),  entombed  his  which 
swam  after  his  galley  to  Salamis,  when  the  people  fled  from 
Athens,  on  the  top  of  a cliff,  which  they  call  the  dog’s  tomb  to 
this  day.  Nor  are  we  to  use  living  creatures  like  old  shoes 
or  dishes,  and  throw  them  away  when  they  are  wcrn  out  or 
broken  with  service  ; but  if  it  were  for  nothing  eise,  but  b) 
way  of  study  and  practice  in  humanity,  a man  ought  always 
to  prehabituate  himself  in  these  things  to  be  of  a kind  and 
sweet  disposition.  As  to  myself,  I would  not  s©  much  as  sell 
my  draught  ox  on  the  account  of  his  age,  much  less  for  a 
small  piece  of  money  sell  a poor  old  man,  and  so  chase  him, 
as  it  were,  from  his  own  country,  by  turning  him  not  only  out 
of  the  place  where  he  has  lived  a long  while,  but  also  out  of 
the  manner  of  living  he  has  been  accustomed  to,  and  that 
more  especially  when  he  would  be  as  useless  to  the  buyer  as 
to  the  seller.  Yet  Cato  for  all  this  glories  that  he  left  that 
very  horse  in  Spain,  which  he  used  in  the  wars  when  he  was 
consul,  only  because  he  would  not  put  the  public  to  the  charge 
of  his  freight.  Whether  these  acts  are  to  be  ascribed  to  the 
greatness  or  pettiness  of  his  spirit,  let  every  one  argue  as  they 
please. 

For  his  general  temperance,  however,  and  self-control,  he 
really  deserves  the  highest  admiration.  For  when  he  com- 
manded the  army,  he  never  took  for  himself,  and  those  that 
belonged  to  him,  above  three  bushels  of  wheat  for  a month, 
and  somewhat  less  than  a bushel  and  a half  a day  of  barley 
for  his  baggage-cattle.  And  when  he  entered  upon  the  gov- 
ernment of  Sardinia,  where  his  predecessors  had  been  used  to 
require  tents,  bedding,  and  clothes  upon  tlie  public  account, 
and  to  charge  the  state  heavily  with  the  cost  of  provisions 
and  entertainments  for  a great  train  of  servants  and  friends, 
the  difference  he  showed  in  his  economy  was  somethinng  in- 
credible. There  was  nothing  of  any  sort  for  which  he  put  the 
public  to  expense  ; he  would  walk  without  a carriage  to  visit 
the  cities,  with  one  only  of  fhe  common  town  officers,  who 
carried  his  dress,  and  a cup  to  offer  libation  with.  Yet  though 
he  seemed  thus  easy  and  sparing  to  all  who  we’^e  under  his 
power,  he,  on  the  other  hand,  showed  most  inflexible  severity 
and  strictness  in  what  related  to  public  justice,  and  was  rig- 
orous and  precise  in  what  concerned  the  ordinances  of  the 
commonwealth  ; so  that  the  Roman  government  never  seemed 
more  terrible,  nor  yet  more  mild  than  under  his  administration. 


532  MARCUS  CATO. 

His  ver}"  manner  of  speaking  seemed  to  have  such  a kind 
of  idea  with  it ; for  it  was  courteous,  and  yet  forcible  ; pleas- 
ant, yet  overwhelming  ; facetious,  yet  austere ; sententious, 
and  yet  vehement : lik'e  Socrates,  in  the  description  of  Plato, 
who  seemed  outwardly  to  those  about  him  to  be  but  a simple, 
talkative,  blunt  fellow ; whilst  at  the  bottom  he  was  full  of 
such  gravity  and  matter,  as  would  even  mcve  tears,  and 
touch  the  very  hearts  of  his  auditors.  And,  therefore,  I know 
not  what  has  persuaded  some  to  say,  that  Cato’s  style  was 
chiefly  like  that  of  Lysias.  However,  let  us  leave  those  to  judge 
of  these  things,  who  profess  most  to  distinguish  between  the 
several  kinds  of  oratorical  style  in  Latin ; whilst  we  write 
down  some  of  his  memorable  sayings ; being  of  the  opinion 
that  a man’s  character  appears  much  more  by  his  words,  than, 
as  some  think  it  does,  by  his  looks. 

Being  once  desirous  to  dissuade  the  common  people  of 
Rome  from  their  unseasonable  and  impetuous  clamor  for 
largesses  and  distributions  of  corn,  he  began  thus  to  harangue 
them  : “ It  is  a difficult  task,  O citizens,  to  make  speeches  to 
the  belly,  which  has  no  ears.”  Reproving,  also,  their  sumpt- 
uous habits,  he  said,  it  was  hard  to  preserve  a city  where  a 
fish  sold  for  more  than  an  ox.  He  had  a saying,  also,  that 
the  Roman  people  were  like  sheep ; for  they,  when  single,  do 
not  obey,  but  when  altogether  in  a flock,  they  follow  their 
leaders : ‘‘  So  you,”  said  he,  “ when  you  have  got  together  in 
a body,  let  yourselves  be  guided  by  those  whom  singly  you 
would  never  think  of  being  advised  by.”  Discoursing  of  the 
power  of  women  : Men,”  said  he,  “ usually  command  women  ; 
but  we  command  all  men,  and  the  w^omen  command  us.”  But 
this,  indeed,  is  borrowed  from  the  sayings  of  Themistocles, 
who,  when  his  son  w^as  making  many  demands  of  him  by 
means  of  the  mother,  said,  “ O w^oman,  the  Athenians  govern 
the  Greeks  ; I govern  the  Athenians,  but  you  govern  me,  and 
your  son  governs  you-;  so  let  him  use  his  power  sparingly, 
^nce,  simple  as  he  is,  he  can  do  more  than  all  the  Greeks 
together.”  Another  saying  of  Cato’s  was,  that  the  Roman 
people  did  not  only  fix  the  value  of  such  and  such  purple 
dyes,  but  also  of  such  and  such  habits  of  life  : ‘‘  For,”  said 
he,  as  dyers  most  of  all  dye  such  colors  as  they  see  to  be 
most  agreeable,  so  the  young  men  learn,  and  zealously  affect 
wffiat  is  most  popular  with  you.”  He  also  exhorted  them, 
that  if  they  were  grown  great  by  their  virtue  and  temperance, 
they  should  not  change  for  the  worse  ; but  if  intemperance 
Z'pA  vice  had  made  them  great,  they  should  change  for  the 


MARCUS  CATO. 


533 


better ; for  by  that  means  they  were  grown  indeed  quite 
great  enough.  He  would  say,  likewise,  of  men  who  wanted 
to  be  continually  in  office,  that  apparently  they  did  not  know 
their  road  ; since  they  could  not  do  wdthout  beadles  to  guide 
them  on  it.  He  also  reproved  the  citizens  for  choosing  still 
the  same  men  as  their  magistrates  : For  you  will  seem,” 
said  he,  “ either  not  to  esteem  government  worth  much,  or  to 
think  few  worthy  to  hold  it.”  Speaking,  too,  of  a certain 
enemy  of  his,  who  lived  a very  base  and  discreditable  life  i 
“ It  is  considered,”  he  said,  “rather  as  a curse  than  a bless- 
ing on  him,  that  this  fellow’s  mother  prays  that  she  may  leave 
him  behind  her.”  Pointing  at  one  who  had  sold  the  land 
which  his  father  had  left  him,  and  which  lay  near* the  sea- 
side, he  pretended  to  express  his  wonder  at  his  being  stronger 
even  than  the  sea  itself;  for  what  it  washed  away  with  a 
great  deal  of  labor,  he  with  a great  deal  of  ease  drank  away. 
When  the  senate,  with  a great  deal  of  splendor,  received 
king  Eumenes  on  his  visit  to  Rome,  and  the  chief  citizens 
strove  who  should  be  most  about  him,  Cato  appeared  to  re- 
gard hiiii  with  suspicion  and  apprehension  ; and  when  one 
that  stood  by,  too,  took  occasion  to  say,  that  he  was  a very 
good  prince  and  a great  lover  of  the  Romans : “ It  may 
be  so,”  said  Cato  ; “but  by  nature  this  same  animal  of  a king, 
is  a king  of  man-eater  ; ” nor,  indeed,  were  there  ever  kings 
who  deserved  to  be  compared  with  Epaminodas,  Pericles, 
Themistocles,  Manius  Curius,  or  Hamilcar,  surnamed  Barcas. 
He  used  to  say,  too,  that  his  enemies  envied  him,  because 
he  had  to  get  up  every  day  before  light,  and  neglect  his  own 
business  to  follow  that  of  the  public.  He  would  also  tell  you 
that  he  had  rather  be  deprived  of  the  reward  for  doing  well, 
than  not  to  suffer  the  punishment  for  doing  ill ; and  that  he 
could  pardon  all  offenders  but  himself. 

The  Romans  having  sent  three  ambassadors  to  Bithynia, 
of  whom  one  was  gouty,  another  had  his  skull  trepanned,  and 
the  other  seemed  little  better  than  a fool,  Cato,  laughing, 
gave  out,  that  the  Romans  had  sent  an  embassy  which  had 
neither  feet,  head,  nor  heart.  His  interest  being  entreated 
by  Scipio,  on  account  of  Polybius,  for  the  Achsean  exiles,  and 
there  happening  to  be  a great  discussion  in  the  senate  about 
it,  some  being  for,  and  some  against  their  return,  Cato,  stand- 
ing up,  thus  delivered  himself:  “Here  do  we  sit  all  day  long, 
as  if  we  had  nothing  to  do,  but  beat  our  brains  whether  these 
old  Greeks  should  be  carried  to  their  graves  by  the  bearers 
here,  or  by  those  in  Achsea.”  The  senate  voting  their  return, 


534 


MARCUS  CATO. 


it  seems  that  a few  days  after,  Polybius’s  friends  furthei 
wished  that  it  should  be  further  moved  in  the  senate,  that  the 
said  banished  persons  should  receive  again  the  honors  which 
they  first  had  in  Ach^a ; and,  to  this  purpose,  they  sounded 
Cato  for  his  opinion  ; but  he,  smiling,  answered,  that  Po- 
lybius, Ulysses  like,  having  escaped  out  of  the  Cyclops’  den, 
wanted,  it  woukl  seem,  to  go  back  again  because  he  had  left 
his  cajD  and  belt  behind  him.  He  used  to  assert,  also,  that 
wise  men  profited  more  by  fools,  than  fools  by  wise  men  ; for 
that  wise  men  avoided  the  faults  of  fools,  but  that  fools  would 
not  imitate  the  good  examples  of  wise  men.  He  would  pro- 
fess, too,  that  he  was  more  taken  with  young  men  that 
blushed,  than  with  those  who  looked  pale  ; and  that  he  never 
desired  to  have  a soldier  that  moved  his  hands  too  much  in 
marching,  and  his  feet  too  much  in  fighting  ; or  snored  louder 
than  he  shouted.  Ridiculing  a fat,  overgrown  man  : “What 
use,”  said  he,  “ can  the  state  turn  a man’s  body  to,  when  all 
between  the  throat  and  groin  is  taken  up  by  the  belly  ? ” 
When  one  who  was  much  given  to  pleasures  desired  his  ac- 
quaintance, begging  his  pardon,  he  said  he  could  not  live 
with  a man  whose  palate  was  of  a quicker  sense  than  his  heart. 
He  would  likewise  say,  that  the  soul  of  a lover  lived  in  the 
body  of  another : and  that  in  his  whole  life,  he  most  repented 
of  three  things ; one  was,  that  he  had  trusted  a secret  to  a 
woman  ; another,  that  he  went  by  water  when  he  might  have 
gone  by  land  ; the  third,  that  he  had  remained  one  whole 
day  without  doing  any  business  of  moment.  Applying  him- 
self to  an  old  man  who  was  committing  some  vice  : “Friend,” 
said  he,  “old  age  has  of  itself  blemishes  enough  ; do  not  you 
add  to  it  the  deformity  of  vice.”  Speaking  to  a tribune,  who 
was  reputed  a prisoner,  and  was  very  violent  for  the  bringing 
in  of  a bill,  in  order  to  make  a certain  law:  “Young  man,” 
cried  he,  “ I know  not  which  would  be  better,  to  drink  what 
you  mix,  or  confirm  what  you  would  put  up  for  a law.”  Be- 
ing reviled  by  a fellow  who  lived  a profligate  and  wicked  life  ; 
“A  contest,”  replied  he,  “is  unequal  between  you  and  me  ; 
for  you  can  hear  ill  words  easily,  and  can  as  easily  give  them  : 
but  it  is  unpleasant  to  me  to  give  «uch,  and  unusual  to  hear 
them.”  Such  was  his  manner  of  expressing  himself  in  his 
memorable  sayings. 

Being  chosen  consul,  with  his  friend  and  familiar  Valer’us 
riaccus,  the  government  of  that  part  of  Spain  which  the 
Romans  called  the  Hither  Spain,  fell  to  his  lot.  Here,  as  he 
was  engaged  in  reducing  some  of  the  tribes  by  force,  and 


MARCUS  CATO. 


S35 


bringins^  over  others  by  good  words,  a large  aimy  of  bar- 
barians fell  upon  him,  so  that  there  was  danger  of  being  dis- 
gracefully forced  out  again.  He  therefore  called  upon  his 
neighbors,  the  Celtiberians,  for  help  ; and  on  their  demand- 
ing two  hundred  talents  for  their  assistance  everybody  else 
thought  it  intolerable,  that  even  the  Romans  snould  promise 
barbarians  a reward  for  their  aid  ; but  Cato  said,  there  was 
no  discredit  or  harm  in  it ; for,  if  they  overcame,  they  wou.d 
pay  them  out  of  the  enemy’s  purse,  and  not  out  of  their  own  ; 
but  if  they  were  overcome,  there  would  be  nobody  left  either 
to  demand  the  reward  or  to  pay  it.  However,  he  won  that 
battle  completely,  and  after  that,  all  his  other  affairs  suc- 
ceeded splendidly.  Polybius  says,  that  by  his  command,  the 
walls  of  all  the  cities  on  this  side  the  river  Boetis  were  in  one 
day’s  time  demolished,  and  yet  there  were  a great  many  of 
them  full  of  brave  and  warlike  men.  Cato  himself  says,  that 
he  took  more  cities  than  he  stayed  days  in  Spain.  Neither  is 
this  a mere  rhodomontade,  if  it  be  true,  that  the  number  was 
four  hundred.  And  though  the  soldiers  themselves  had  got 
much  in  the  fights,  yet  he  distributed  a pound  of  silver  to 
every  man  of  them,  saying,  it  was  better,  that  many  of  the 
Romans  should  return  home  with  silver,  rather  than  a few 
with  gold.  For  himself,  he  affirms,  that  of  all  the  things  that 
were  taken,  nothing  came  to  him  beyond  what  he  ate  and 
drank.  “ Neither  do  I find  fault,”  continued  he,  with  those 
that  seek  to  profit  by  these  spoils,  but  I had  rather  compete 
in  valor  with  the  best,  than  in  wealth  with  the  richest,  or  with 
the  most  covetous  in  love  of  money.”  Nor  did  he  merely 
keep  himself  clear  from  taking  any  thing,  but  even  all  those 
who  more  immediately  belonged  to  him.  He  had  five  servants 
with  him  in  the  army  ; one  of  whom  called  Paccus,  bought 
three  boys,  out  of  those  who  were  taken  captive ; which 
Cato  coming  to  understand,  the  man,  rather  than  venture 
into  his  presence,  hanged  himself.  Cato  sold  the  boys,  and 
carried  the  price  he  got  for  them  into  the  public  exchequer. 

Scipio  the  Great,  being  his  enemy,  and  desiring,  whilst  he 
was  carrying  all  things  so  successfully,  to  obstruct  him,  and 
take  the  affairs  of  Spain  into  his  own  hands,  succeeded  in 
getting  himself  appointed  his  successor  in  the  government, 
and,  making  all  possible  haste,  put  a term  to  Cato’s  au 
thority.  But  he,  t iking  with  him  a convoy  of  five  cohorts 
of  foot,  and  five  hundred  horse  to  attend  him  home,  over 
threw  by  the  way  the  Lacetanians,  and  taking  from  them  six 
hundred  deserters,  caused  them  all  to  be  beheaded  : upon 


53^ 


MARCUS  CATO. 


which  Scipio  seemed  to  be  in  indignation,  but  Cato,  in 
mock  disparagement  of  himself,  said,  “ Rome  would  be- 
come great  indeed,  if  the  most  honorable  and  great  men 
would  not  yield  up  the  first  place  of  valor  to  those  who  were 
more  obscure,  and  when  they  who  were  of  the  commonalty 
(as  he  himself  was)  would  contend  in  valor  with  those  who 
were  most  eminent  in  birth  and  honor.’’  The  senate  having 
voted  to  change  nothing  of  what  had  been  established  by 
Cato,  the  government  passed  away  under  Scipio  to  no  maniiei 
of  purpose,  in  idleness  and  doing  nothing ; and  so  diminished 
his  credit  much  more  than  Cato’s.  Nor  did  Cato,  who  now 
received  a triumph,  remit  after  this  and  slacken  the  reins  of 
virtue,  as  many  do,  who  strive  not  so  much  for  virtue’s  sake, 
as  for  vain  glory,  and  having  attained  the  highest  honors,  as 
the  consulship  and  triumphs,  pass  the  lest  of  their  life  in 
pleasure  and  idleness,  and  quit  all  public  affairs.  But  he, 
like  those  who  are  just  entered  upon  public  life  for  the  first 
time,  and  thirst  after  gaining  honor  and  glory  in  some  new 
office,  strained  himself,  as  if  he  were  but  just  setting  out;  and 
offering  still  publicly  his  service  to  his  friends  and  citizens, 
would  give  up  neither  his  pleadings  nor  his  soldiery. 

He  accompained  and  assisted  Tiberius  Sempronius,  as  his 
lieutenant,  when  he  went  into  Thrace  and  to  the  Danube  ; 
and,  in  the  quality  of  tribune,  went  with  Manius  Acilius  into 
Greece,  against  Antiochus  the  Great,  who,  after  Hannibal, 
more  than  any  one  struck  terror  into  the  Romans.  For  hav- 
ing reduced  once  more  under  a single  command  almost  the 
whole  of  Asia,  all,  namely,  that  Seleucus.  Nicator  had  pos- 
sessed, and  having  brought  into  obedience  many  warlike  na- 
tions of  the  barbarians,  he  longed  to  fall  upon  the  Romans, 
as  if  they  only  were  now  worthy  to  fight  with  him.  So  across 
he  came  with  his  forces,  pretending,  as  a specious  cause  of 
the  war,  that  it  was  to  free  the  Greeks,  who  had  indeed  no 
need  of  it,  they  having  been  but  newly  delivered  from  the 
power  of  king  Philip  and  the  Macedonians,  and  made  inde- 
pendent, with  the  free  use  of  their  own  laws,  by  the  goodness 
of  the  Romans  themselves  : so  that  all  Greece  was  in  com- 
motion and  excitement,  having  been  corrupted  by  the  hopes 
of  royal  aid  which  the  popular  leaders  in  their  cities  put  them 
into.  Manius,  therefore,  sent  ambassadors  to  the  different 
cities  ; and  Titus  Flamininus  (as  is  written  in  the  account  of 
him)  suppressed  and  quieted  most  of  the  attempts  of  the  in- 
novators, without  any  trouble.  Cato  brought  over  the  Corinth- 
ians, those  of  Patrse  and  of  ^gium,  and  spent  a good  deal 


MARCUS  CATO. 


537 


of  time  at  Athens.  There  is  also  an  oration  cf  his  said  to  be 
extant  which  he  spoke  in  Greek  to  the  people ; in  which  he 
expressed  his  admiration  of  the  virtue  of  the  ancient  Athe- 
nians, and  signified  that  he  came  with  a great  deal  of  pleasure 
to  be  a spectator  of  the  beauty  and  greatness  of  iheir  city. 
But  this  is  a fiction  ; for  he  spoke  to  the  Athenians  by  an  in- 
terpreter, though  he  was  able  to  have  spoken  himself ; but  he 
wished  to  observe  the  usage  of  his  own  country,  and  laughed 
at  those  who  admired  nothing  but  what  was  in  Greek.  Jest- 
ing upon  Postumius  Albinus,  who  had  written  an  historical 
work  in  Greek,  and  requested  that  allowances  might  be  made 
for  his  attempt,  he  said,  that  allowance  indeed  might  be 
made,  if  he  had  do'ne  it  under  the  express  compulsion  of  an 
Amphictyonic  decree.  The  Athenians,  he  says,  admired  the 
quickness  and  vehemence  of  his  speech  ; for  an  interpreter 
would  be  very  long  in  repeating  what  he  expressed  with  a 
great  deal  of  brevity  ; but  on  the  whole  he  professed  to  believe, 
that  the  words  of  the  Greeks  came  only  from  their  lips,  whilst 
those  of  the  Romans  came  from  their  hearts. 

Now  Antiochus,  having  occupied  with  his  army  the  narrow 
passages  about  Thermopylae,  and  added  palisades  and  walls 
to  the  natural  fortifications  of  the  place,  sat  down  there,  think- 
ing he  had  done  enough  to  divert  the  war  ; and  the  Romans, 
indeed,  seemed  wholly  to  despair  of  forcing  the  passage  ; but 
Cato,  calling  to  mind  the  compass  and  circuit  which  the  Per- 
sians had  formerly  made  to  come  at  this  place,  went  forth  in 
the  night,  taking  along  with  him  part  of  the  army.  Whilst 
they  were  climbing  up,  the  guide,  who  was  a prisoner,  missed 
the  way,  and  wandering  up  and  down  by  impracticable  and 
precipitous  paths,  filled  the  soldiers  with  fear  and  despond- 
ency. Cato,  perceiving  the  danger,  commanded  all  the  rest 
to  halt,  and  stay  where  they  were,  whilst  he  himself,  taking 
along  with  him  one  Lucius  Manlius,  a most  expert  man  at 
climbing  mountains,  went  forward  with  a great  deal  of  labor 
and  danger,  in  the  dark  night,  and  without  the  least  moon- 
shine, among  the  wild  olive  trees,  and  steep  craggy  rocks, 
there  being  nothing  but  precipices  and  darkness  before  their 
eyes,  till  they  struck  into  a little  pass  which  they  thought 
might  lead  down  into  the  energy’s  camp.  There  they  put  up 
marks  upon  some  conspicuous  peaks  which  surmount  the  hill 
called  Callidromon,  and,  returning  again,  they  led  the  army 
along  with  them  to  the  said  marks,  till  they  got  into  their  little 
path  again,  and  there  once  made  a halt;  but  when  they  began 
to  go  further,  the  path  deserted  them  at  a precipice,  where 


538 


MARCUS  CATO. 


they  were  in  another  strait  and  fear;  nor  did  they  perceive 
that  they  were  all  this  while  near  the  enemy.  And  now  the 
day  began  to  give  some  light,  when  they  seemed  to  hear  a 
noise,  and  presently  after  to  see  the  Greek  trenches  and  the 
guard  at  the  foot  of  the  rock.  Here,  therefore,  Cato  halted 
Ins  forces,  and  commanded  the  troops  from  Firmum  only, 
without  the  rest,  to  stick  by  him,  as  he  had  always  found  them 
faithful  and  ready.  And  when  they  came  up  and  former] 
around  him  in  close  order,  he  thus  spoke  to  them.  “ I desire,^* 
he  said,  to  take  one  of  the  enemy  alive,  that  so  I may  un- 
derstand what  men  these  are  who  guard  the  passage ; their 
number ; and  with  what  discipline,  order,  and  preparation 
they  expect  us  ; but  this  feat,”  continued  he,  ‘‘  must  be  an  act 
of  a great  deal  of  quickness  and  boldness,  such  as  that  of 
lions,  when  they  dart  upon  some  timorous  animal.”  Cato  had 
no  sooner  thus  expressed  himself,  but  the  Firmans  forthwith 
rushed  down  the  mountain,  just  as  they  were,  upon  the  guard, 
and,  falling  unexpectedly  upon  them,  affrighted  and  dispersed 
them  all.  One  armed  man  they  took,  and  brought  to  Cato, 
who  quickly  learned  from  him,  that  the  rest  of  the  forces  lay 
in  the  narrow  passage  about  the  king;  that  those  who  kept 
the  tops  of  the  rocks  were  six  hundred  choice  ^tolians. 
Cato,  therefore,  despising  the  smallness  of  their  number  and 
carelessness,  forthwith  drawing  his  sword,  fell  upon  them 
with  a great  noise  of  trumpets  and  shouting.  The  enem)^, 
perceiving  them  thus  tumbling,  as  it  were,  upon  them  from 
the  precipices,  flew  to  the  main  body,  and  put  all  things  into 
disorder  there. 

In  the  mean  time,  whilst  Manius  was  forcing  the  works 
below;  and  pouring  the  thickest  of  his  forces  into  the  narrow 
passages,  Antiochus  was  hit  in  the  mouth  with  a stone  so 
that  his  teeth  being  beaten  out  by  it,  he  felt  such  excessive 
pain,  that  he  was  fain  to  turn  away  with  his  horse  ; nor  did 
any  part  of  his  army  stand  the  shock  of  the  Romans.  Yet, 
though  there  seemed  no  reasonable  hope  of  flight,  where  all 
patlis  were  so  difficult,  and  where  there  were  deep  marshes 
and  steep  rocks,  which  looked  as  if  they  were  ready  to  receive 
those  who  should  stumble,  the  fugitives,  nevertheless,  crowd- 
ing and  pressing  together  in  the  narrow  passages,  destroyed 
even  one  another  in  their  terror  of  the  swords  and  blows  of 
the  enemy.  Cato  (as  it  plainly  appears)  was  never  overspar- 
ing of  his  own  praises,  and  seldom  shunned  boasting  of  any 
exploit ; which  quality,  indeed,  he  seems  to  have  thought  the 
natural  accompaniment  of  great  actions  ; and  with  these  par- 


MARCUS  CATO. 


539 


ticiilar  exploits  he  was  highly  puffed  up  ; he  says,  that  those 
who  saw  him  that  day  pursuing  and  slaying  the  enemies,  were 
ready  to  assert,  that  Cato  owed  not  so  much  to  the  public,  as 
the  public  did  to  Cato  ; nay,  he  adds,  that  Manius  the  consul, 
coming  hot  from  the  fight,  embraced  him  for  a great  while, 
when  both  were  all  in  a sweat;  and  then  cried  out  with  joy, 
that  neither  he  himself,  no,  nor  all  the  people  together,  could 
^ make  him  a recompense  equal  to  his  actions.  After  the  fight 
he  was  sent  to  Rome,  that  he  himself  might  be  the  messenger 
of  it : and  so,  with  a favorable  wind,  he  sailed  to  Brundusium, 
and  in  one  day  got  from  thence  to  Tarentum  ; and  having 
travelled  four  days  more,  upon  the  fifth,  counting  from  the 
time  of  his  landing,  he  arrived  at  Rome,  and  so  brought  the 
first  news  of  the  victory  himself ; and  filled  the  whole  city 
with  joy  and  sacrifices,  and  the  people  with  the  belief,  that 
they  w^ere  able  to  conquer  every  sea  and  every  land. 

These  are  pretty  nearly  all  the  eminent  actions  of  Cato, 
relating  to  military  affairs  : in  civil  policy,  he  was  of  opinion, 
that  one  chief  duty  consisted  in  accusing  and  indicting  crimi- 
nals. He  himself  prosecuted  many,  and  he  would  also  assist 
others  who  prosecuted  them,  nay  would  even  procure  such,  as 
he  did  the  Petilii  against  Scipio  ; but  not  being  able  to  destroy 
him,  by  reason  of  the  nobleness  of  his  family,  and  the  real 
greatness  of  his  mind,  which  enabled  him  to  trample  all  cal- 
umnies underfoot,  Cato  at  last  would  meddle  no  more  with 
him ; yet  joining  with  the  accusers  against  Scipio’s  brother 
Lucius,  he  succeeded  in  obtaining  a sentence  against  him, 
which  condemned  him  to  the  payment  of  a large  sum  of 
money  to  the  state  ; and  being  insolvent,  and  in  danger  of 
being  thrown  into  jail,  he  was,  by  the  interposition  of  the  trib- 
unes of  the  people,  with  much  ado  dismissed.  It  is  also 
said  of  Cato,  that  when  he  met  a certain  youth,  who  had 
effected  the  disgrace  of  one  of  his  father’s  enemies,  walking 
in  the  market-place,  he  shook  him  by  the  hand,  telling  him, 
that  this  was  what  we  ought  to  sacrifice  to  our  dead  parents-— 
not  lambs  and  goats,  but  the  tears  and  condemnations  of 
their  adversaries.  But  neither  did  he  himself  escape  with 
impunity  in  his  management  of  affairs  ; for  if  he  gave  his 
enemies  but  the  least  hold,  he  was  still  in  danger,  and  exposed 
to  be  brought  to  justice.  He  is  reported  to  have  escaped  at 
least  fifty  indictments  ; and  one  above  the  rest  which  was  the 
last,  when  he  was  eighty-six  years  old,  about  which  time  he 
uttered  the  well-known  saying,  that  it  was  hard  for  him  who 
had  liwid  with  one  generation  of  men,  to  plead  now  before 


540 


MARCUS  CATO. 


another.  Neither  did  he  make  this  the  least  of  his  lawsuits  j 
for,  four  years  after,  when  he  was  fourscore  and  ten,  he  ac- 
cused Servilius  Galba  : so  that  his  life  and  actions  extended, 
we  may  say,  as  Nestor's  did,  over  three  ordinary  ages  of  man. 
For,  having  had  many  contests,  as  we  have  related,  with 
Scipio  the  Great,  about  affairs  of  state,  he  continued  them 
down  to  Scipio  the  younger,  who  was  the  adopted  grandson 
of  the  former,  and  the  son  of  that  Paulus,  who  overthrew  Per- 
seus and  the  Macedonians. 

Ten  years  after  his  consulship,  Cato  stood  for  the  office  of 
censor,  which  was  indeed  the  summit  of  all  honor,  and  in  a 
manner  the  highest  step  in  civil  affairs  ; for  besides  all  other 
power,  it  had  also  that  of  an  inquisition  into  every  one's  life 
and  manners.  For  the  Romans  thought  that  no  marriage 
or  rearing  of  children,  nay,  no  feast  or  drinking-bout  ought 
to  be  permitted  ?';cording  to  everyone's  appetite  or  fancy, 
without  being  examined  and  inquired  into  ; being  indeed  of 
opinion,  that  a man's  character  was  much  sooner  perceived  in 
things  of  this  sort  than  in  what  is  done  publicly  and  in  open 
day.  They  chose,  therefore,  two  persons,  one  out  of  the  patri- 
cians, the  other  out  of  the  commons,  who  were  to  watch, 
correct,  and  punish,  if  any  one  ran  too  much  into  voluptuous- 
ness, or  transgressed  the  usual  manner  of  life  of  his  country  ; 
and  these  they  called  Censors.  They  had  power  to  take 
away  a horse,  or  expel  out  of  the  senate  any  one  who  lived 
in  temperately  and  out  of  order.  It  was  also  their  business  to 
take  an  estimate  of  what  every  one  was  worth,  and  to  put 
down  in  registers  everybody's  birth  and  quality  ; besides  many 
other  prerogatives.  And  therefore  the  chief  nobility  opposed 
his  pretensions  to  it.  Jealousy  prompted  the  patricians,  wlio 
thought  that  it  would  be  a stain  to  everybody's  nobility,  if 
men  of  no  original  honor  should  rise  to  the  highest  dignity 
and  power  ; while  others  conscious  of  their  own  evil  practices, 
and  of  the  violation  of  the  laws  and  customs  of  their  country, 
were  afraid  of  the  austerity  of  the  man  ; which,  in  an  office  of 
such  great  power,  was  likely  to  prove  most  uncompromising 
and  severe.  And  so,  consulting  among  themselves,  they 
brought  forward  se/en  candidates  in  opposition  to  him,  who 
sedulously  set  themselves  to  court  the  people's  favor  by  fair 
promises,  as  though  what  they  wished  for  was  indulgent  and 
easy  government,  ^to,  on  the  contrary,  promising  no  such 
mildness,  but  plainly  mreatening  evil  livers,  from  the  very 
hustings  openly  declared  Tnfhself  , and  exHaiming,  that  the 
city  needed  a great  and  thorough  purgation,  called  upon  the 


MARCUS  CATO. 


541 


people,  if  they  were  wise,  not  to  choose  the  gentlest,  but  the 
roughest  of  physicians  ; such  a one,  he  said,  he  was,  and 
Valerius  Flaccus,  one  of  the  patricians,  another;  together 
with  him,  he  doubted  not  but  he  should  do  something  worth 
the  while,  and  that,  by  cutting  to  pieces  and  burning  like  a 
hydra,  all  luxury  and  voluptuousness.  He  added,  too,  that 
he  saw  all  the  rest  endeavoring  after  the  office  with  ill  intent, 
because  they  were  afraid  of  those  who  would  exercise  it  justly, 
as  they  ought.  And  so  truly  great  and  so  worthy  of  great 
men  to  be  its  leaders  was,  it  would  seem,  the  Roman  people, 
that  they  did  not  fear  the  severity  and  grim  countenance  of 
Cato,  but  rejecting  those  smooth  promisers  who  were  ready 
to  do  all  things  to  ingratiate  themselves,  they  took  him,  to- 
gether with  Flaccus  ; obeying  his  recommendations  not  as 
though  he  were  a candidate,  but  as  if  he  had  had  the  actual 
power  of  commanding  and  governing  already. 

Cato  named  as  chief  of  the  senate,  his  friend  and  col- 
league Lucius  Valerius  Flaccus,  and  expelled,  among  many 
others,  Lucius  Quintius,  who  had  been  consul  seven  years 
before,  and  (which  was  greater  honor  to  him  than  the  consul- 
ship) brother  to  that  Titus  Flamininus.  who  overthrew  king 
Philip.  The  reason  he  had  for  his  expulsion,  was  this. 
Lucius,  it  seems,  took  along  with  him  in  all  his  commands,  a 
youth,  whom  he  had  kept  as  his  companion  from  the  flower 
of  his  age,  and  to  whom  he  gave  as  much  power  and  respect 
as  to  the  chiefest  of  his  friends  and  relations. 

Now  it  happened  that  Lucius  being  consular  governor  of 
one  of  the  provinces,  the  youth  setting  himself  down  by  him, 
as  he  used  to  do,  among  other  flatteries  with  which  he  played 
upon  him,  when  he  was  in  his  cups,  told  him  he  loved  him  so 
dearly  that,  “ though  there  was  a show  of  gladiators  to  be 
seen  at  Rome,  and  he  said,  “ had  never  beheld  one  in  my 
life  ; and  though  I,  as  it  were,  longed  to  see  a man  killed,  yet 
I made  all  possible  haste  to  come  to  you.'*’  Upon  this  Lucius, 
returning  his  fondness,  replied,  “Do  not  be  melancholy  on 
that  account ; I can  remedy  that.”  Ordering  therefore, 
forthwith,  one  of  those  condemned  to  die  to  be  brought  to 
the  feast,  together  with  the  headsman  and  axe,  he  asked  the 
youth  if  he  wished  to  see  him  executed.  The  boy  answering 
that  he  did,  Lucius  commanded  the  executioner  to  cut  off  his 
neck  ; and  this  several  historians  mention  ; and  Cicero,  in- 
deed, in  his  dialogue  de  Seiiectnte^  introduces  Cato  relating  it 
himself.  But  Livy  says,  that  he  that  was  killed  was  a Gaulish 
deserter,  and  that  Lucius  did  not  execute  him  by  the  stroke 


542 


MARCUS  CATO. 


of  the  executioner,  but  with  his  own  hand  ; and  that  it  is  so 
stated  in  Cato’s  speech. 

Lucius  being  thus  expelled  out  of  the  senate  by  Cato,  his 
brother  took  it  very  ill,  and  appealing  to  the  people,  desired 
that  Cato  should  declare  liis, reasons  ; and  when  he  began  to 
relate  this  transaction  of  the  feast,  Lucius  endeavored  to 
deny  it ; but  Cato  challenging  him  to  a formal  investigation, 
he  fell  off  and  refused  it,  so  that  he  was  then  acknowledged 
to  suffer  deservedly.  Afterwards,  however,  when  there  was 
some  show  at  the  theatre,  he  passed  by  the  seats  where  those 
who  had  been  consuls  used  to  be  placed,  and  taking  his  seat 
a great  way  off,  excited  the  compassion  of  the  common  peo- 
ple, who  presently  with  a great  noise ’made  him  go  forward, 
and  as  much  as  they  could,  tried  to  set  right  and  salve  over 
what  had  happened.  Manilius,  also,  who,  according  to  the 
public  expectation,  would  have  been  next  consul,  he  threw 
out  of  the  senate,  because,  in  the  presence  of  his  daughter, 
and  in  open  day,  he  had  kissed  his  wife.  He  said,  that  as 
for  himself,  his  wife  never  came  into  his  arms  except  when 
there  was  great  thunder  ; so  that  it  was  for  jest  with  him, 
that  it  was  a pleasure  for  him,  when  Jupiter  thundered. 

His  treatment  of  Lucius,  likewise  the  brother  of  Scipio,  and 
one  who  had  been  honored  with  a triumph,  occasioned  some 
odium  against  Cato  ; for  he  took  his  horse  from  him,  and  was 
thought  to  do  it  with  a design  of  putting  an  affront  on  Scipio 
Africanus,  now  dead.  But  he  gave  most  general  annoyance, 
by  retrenching  people’s  luxury  ; for  though  (most  of  the 
youth  bemg  thereby  already  corrupted)  it  seemed  almost  im- 
possible jto  take  it  away  with  an  open  hand  and  directly,  yet, 
going,  as  it  were,  obliquely  around,  he  caused  all  dress 
carriages,  women’s  ornaments,  household  furniture,  whose 
price  exceeded  one  thousand  five  hundred  drachmas,  to  be 
rated  at  ten  times  as  much  as  they  were  worth  ; intending  by 
thus  making  the  assessments  greater,  to  increase  the  taxes  paid 
upon  theujLR  He  also  ordained  th^H^n  every  thousand 
asses  oT^property  of  this  kind,  three  should  be  paid,  so  that 
people,  burdened  with  these  extra  charges,  and  seeing  others 
of  as  good  estates,  but  more  frugal  and  sparing,  paying  less 
into  the  public  exchequer,  might  be  tired  out  of  their  prod- 
igality. And  thus,  on  the  one  side,  not  only  those  wer^  dis- 
gusted at  Cato,  who  bore  the  taxes  for  the  sake  of  their  lux-* 
ury,  but  those,  too,  who  on  the  other  side  laid  by  their 
luxury  for  fear  of  the  taxes.  For  people  in  general  reckon, 
that  an  order  not  to  display  their  riches,  is  equivalent  to  the 


MARCUS  CATO. 


543 


taking  away  of  their  riches,  because  riches  are  seen  much 
more  in  superfluous,  than  in  necessary  things.  Indeed  this 
was  what  excited  the  wonder  of  Ariston  the  philosopher  ; 
that  we  account  those  who  possess  superfluous  things  more 
happy  than  those  who  abound  with  what  is  necessary  and 
useful.  But  when  one  of  his  friends  asked  Scopas,  the  rich 
Thessalian,  to  give  him  some  article  of  no  great  utility,  saying 
that  it  was  not  a thing  that  he  had  any  great  need  or  use  foi 
himself.  ‘‘  In  truth,’’  replied  he,  “ it  is  just  these  useless  and 
unnecessary  things  that  make  my  wealth  and  happiness.’^ 
Thus  the  desire  of  riches  does  not  proceed  from  a natural 
passion  within  us,  but  arises  rather  from  vulgar  out-of-doors 
opinion  of  other  people. 

Cato,  notwithstanding,  being  little  solicitous  as  to  those 
who  exclaimed  against  him,  increased  his  austerity.  He 
caused  the  pipes,  through  which  some  persons  brought  the 
public  water  into  their  houses  and  gardens,  to  be  cut,  and 
threw  down  all  buildings  which  jutted  out  into  the  common 
streets.  He  beat  down  also  the  price  in  contracts  for  pubi^ 
works  to*  the  lowest,  and  raised  it  inc^tracts  for  farming 
the  taxes  to  the  highest  sum ; by  which  proceedings  he  drew 
a great  deal  of  hatred  upon  hmself.  Those  who  were  of  Titus 
Flamininus’s  party  cancelled  in  the  senate  all  the  bargains  and 
contracts  made  by  him  for  the  repairing  and  carrying  on  of 
the  sacred  and  public  buildings,  as  unadvantageous  to  the 
commonwealth.  They  incited  also  the  boldest  of  the  tribunes 
of  the  people  to  accuse  him  and  to  fine  him  tw^o  talents.  They 
likewise  much  opposed  him  in  building  the  court  or  basilica, 
which  he  caused  to  be  erected  at  the  common  charge,  just  by 
the  senate-house,  in  the  market-pTac^'Irn^ca^  by  Tiis  own 
name,  the  Porcian.  However,  the  people,  it  seems,  liked  his 
censorship  wondrously  well  ; for,  setting  up  a statue  for 
him  in  the  temple  of  the  goddess  of  Health,  they  put  an  in- 
scription under  it,  not  recording  his  commands  in  war  or  his 
triumph,  but  to  the  effect,  that  this  was  Cato  the  Censor, 
who,  by  his  good  discipline  and  wise  and  temperate  ordinances, 
reclaimed  the  Roman  commonwealth  when  it  was  declining 
and  sinking  down  into  vice.  Before  this  honor  was  done  to 
himself,  he  used  to  laugh  at  those  who  loved  such  kind  of 
things,  saying,  that  they  did  not  see  that  they  were  taking 
pride  in  the  workmanship  of  brass-founders  and  painters ; 
whereas  the  citizens  bore  about  his  best  likeness  in  their 
breasts.  And  when  any  seemed  to  wonder,  that  he  should 
have  never  a statue,  while  many  ordinary  persons  had  one, 


S44 


MARCUS  CATU. 


“ I wouid  ’’  said  he,  much  rather  be  asked,  why  I ha:ve  not 
one,  than  why  I have  one.”  In  short,  he  would  not  have  any 
honest. .citizen  endure  to  be  praised,  except  it  might  prove 
advantageous  to'thLe''commonwealth.  Yet  still  he  had  passed 
the  highest  commendation  on  himself ; for  he  tells  us  that 
those  who  did  any  thing  wrong,  and  were  found  fault  with, 
used  to  say,  it  was  not  worth  while  to  blame  them  ; for  they 
were  not  Catos.  He  also  adds,  that  they  who  awkwardly 
mimicked  some  of  his  actions,  were  called  left-handed  Catos ; 
and  that  the  senate  in  perilous  times  would  cast  their  eyes 
on  him,  as  upon  a pilot  in  a ship,  and  that  often  when  he  was 
not  present  they  put  off  affairs  of  greatest  consequence. 
These  things  are  indeed  also  testified  of  him  by  others;  for 
he  had  a great  authority  in  the  city,  alike  for  his  his  life,  his 
eloquence,  and  his  age. 

He  was  also  a good  father,  an  excellent  husband  to  his 
wife,  and  an  extraordinary  economist ; and  as  he  did  not 
manage  his  affairs  of  this  kind  carelessly,  and  as  things  of  little 
moment,  I think  I ought  to  record  a little  further  whatever 
was  commendable  in  him  in  these  points.  He  married  a 
wife  more  noble  than  rich  ; being  of  opinion,  that  the  rich 
and  the  high-born  are  equally  haughty  and  proud  ; but  that 
those  of  noble  blood,  would  be  more  ashamed  of  base  things, 
and  consequent!}  more  obedient  to  their  husbands  in  all  that 
was  fit  and  right.  A man  who  beat  his  wife  or  child,  laid 
violent  hands,  he  said,  on  what  was  most  sacred  ; and  a good 
husband  he  reckoned  worthy  of  more  praise  than  a great 
senator  ; and  he  admired  the  ancient  Socrates  for  nothing 
so  much,  as  for  having  lived  a temperate  and  contented  life 
with  a wife  who  was  a scold,  and  children  who  were  half- 
whted. 

As  soon  as  he  had  a son  born,  though  he  had  never  such 
urgent  business  upon  his  hands,  unless  it  were  some  public 
matter,  he  would  be  by  when  his  wife  washed  it,  and  dressed 
it  in  its  swaddling  clothes.  For  she  herself  suckled  it,  nay, 
she  often  too  gave  her  breast  to  her  servants’  children,  to  pro- 
duce,  by  sucking  the  same  milk,  a kind  of  natural  love  in  them 
to  her  son.  When  he  began  to  come  to  years  of  discretion, 
Cato,  himself,  would  teach  him  to  read,  although  he  had  a 
servant,  a very  good  grammarian,  called  Chilo,  who  taught 
many  others  ; but  he  thought  not  fit,  as  he  himself  said,  to 
have  his  son  reprimanded  by  a slave,  or  pulled,  it  may  be,  by 
the  ears  when  found  tardy  in  his  lesson  : nor  would  he  have 
him  owe  to  a servant  the  obligation  of  so  great  a thing  as 


MARCUS  CATO. 


S4S 


his  learning ; he  himself,  therefore  (as  we  were  saying),  taught 
him  his  grammar,  law,  and  his  gymnastic  exercises.  Nor  did 
he  only  show  him,  too,  how  to  throw  a dart,  to  fight  in  armor, 
and  to  ride,  but  to  box  also  and  to  endure  both  heat  and  cold, 
and  to  swim  over  the  most  rapid  and  rough  rivers.  He  says, 
likewise,  that  he  wrote  histories,  in  large  characters,  with  his 
own  hand,  that  so  his  son,  without  stirring  out  of  the  house^ 
might  learn  to  know  about  his  countrymen  and  forefathers- 
nor  did  he  less  abstain  from  speaking  any  thing  obscene  before 
his  son,  than  if  it  had  been  in  the  presence  of  the  sacred  vir- 
gins, called  vestals.  Nor  would  he  ever  go  into  the  bath  with 
him  ; which  seems  indeed  to  have  been  the  common  custom 
of  the  Romans.  Sons-in-law  used  to  avoid  bathing  with 
fathers-in-law,  disliking  to  see  one  another  naked  ; but  having, 
in  time,  learned  of  the  Greeks  to  strip  before  men,  they  have 
since  taught  the  Greeks  to  do  it  even  with  the  women  them- 
selves. 

Thus,  like  an  excellent  work,  Cato  formed  and  fashioned 
his  son  to  virtue ; nor  had  he  any  occasion  to  find  fault  with 
his  readiness  and  docility ; but  as  he  proved  to  be  of  too 
weak  a constitution  for  hardships,  he  did  not  insist  on  requir- 
ing of  him  any  very  austere  way  of  living.  However,  though 
delicate  in  health,  he  proved  a stout  man  in  the  field,  and  be- 
haved himself  valiantly  when  Paulus  ^milius  fought  against 
Perseus ; where  when  his  sword  was  struck  from  him  by  a 
blow,  or  rather  slipped  out  of  his  hand  by  reason  of  its  moist- 
ness, he  so  keenly  resented  it,  that  he  turned  to  some  of  his 
friends  about  him,  and  taking  them  along  with  him  again,  fell 
upon  the  enemy  ; and  having  by  a long  fight  and  much  force 
cleared  the  place,  at  length  found  it  among  great  heaps  of 
arms,  and  the  dead  bodies  of  friends  as  well  as  enemies  piled 
one  upon  another.  Upon  which  Paulus,  his  general,  much 
commended  the  youth ; and  there  is  a letter  of  Cato’s  to  his 
son,  which  highly  praises  his  honorable  eagerness  for  the  re- 
covery of  his  sword.  Afterwards  he  married  Tertia,  .^milius 
Paulus’s  daughter,  and  sister  to  Scipio  ; nor  was  he  admitted 
into  this  family  less  for  his  own  worth  than  his  father’s.  So 
that  Cato’s  care  in  his  son’s  education  came  to  a very  fitting 
result. 

He  purchased  a great  many  slaves  out  of  the  captives 
taken  in  war  but  chiefly  bought  up  the  young  ones,  who  were 
capable  to  be,  as  it  were,  broken  and  taught  like  whelps  and 
colls.  None  of  these  ever  entered  another  man’s  house,  ex 
cept  sent  either  by  Cato  himself  or  his  wife.  If  any  one  of 


546 


MARCUS  CATO. 


them  were  asked  what  Cato  did,  they  answered  merely,  that 
they  did  not  know.  When  a servant  was  at  home,  he  was 
obliged  either  to  do  some  work  or  sleep,  for  indeed  Cato 
loved  those  most  who  used  to  lie  down  often  to  sleep,  ac- 
counting them  more  docile  than  those  who  were  wakeful,  and 
more  fit  for  any  thing  when  they  were  refreshed  with  a little 
slumber.  Being  also  of  opinion,  that  the  great  cause  of  the 
laziness  and  misbehavior  of  slaves  was  their  running  after 
their  pleasures,  he  fixed  a certain  price  for  them  to  pay  for 
permission  amongst  themselves,  but  would  suffer  no  connec- 
tions out  of  the  house.  At  first,  when  he  was  but  a poor  sol 
dier,  he  would  not  be  difficult  in  any  thing  which  related  to 
his  eating,  but  looked  upon  it  as  a pitiful  thing  to  quarrel 
with  a servant  for  the  belly’s  sake  ; but  afterwards,  when  he 
grew  richer,  and  made  any  feasts  for  his  friends  and  col- 
leagues in  office,  as  soon  as  supper  was  over  he  used  to  go 
with  a leathern  thong  and  scourge  those  who  had  waited  or 
dressed  the  meat  carelessly.  He  always  contrived,  too,  that 
his  servants  should  have  some  difference  one  among  another, 
always  suspecting  and  fearing  a good  understanding  between 
them.  Those  who  had  committed  any  thing  worthy  of  death, 
he  punished  if  they  were  found  guilty  by  the  verdict  of  their 
fellow-servants.  But  being  after  all  much  given  to  the  desire 
of  gain,  he  looked  upon  agriculture  rather  as  a pleasure  than 
profit  ; resolving,  therefore,  to  lay  out  his  money  in  safe  and 
solid  things,  he  purchased  ponds,  hot  baths,  grounds  full  of 
fuller’s  earth,  remunerative  lands,  pastures,  and  woods  ; from 
all  which  he  drew  large  returns,  nor  could  Jupiter  himself,  he 
ased  to  say,  do  him  much  damage.  He  was  also  given  to  the 
form  of  usury,  which  is  considered  most  odious,  in  traffic  by 
sea  ; and  that  thus  : — he  desired  that  those  whom  he  put  out 
his  money  to,  should  have  many  partners  ; when  the  number 
of  them  and  their  ships  came  to  be  fifty,  he  himself  took  one 
share  through  Quintio  his  freedman,  who  therefore  was  to  sail 
with  the  adventurers,  and  take  a part  in  all  their  proceedings  ; 
so  tl;at  thus  there  was  no  danger  of  losing  his  whole  stock, 
but  only  a little  part,  and  that  with  a prospect  of  great  profit. 
He  likewise  lent  money  to  those  of  his  slaves  who  wished  o 
borrow,  with  which  they  bought  also  other  young  ones,  whom, 
when  they  had  taught  and  bred  up  at  his  charges,  they  would 
sell  again  at  the  year’s  end  ; but  some  of  them  Cato  would 
keep  for  himself,  giving  just  as  much  for  them  as  another 
had  offered.  To  incline  his  son  to  be  of  his  kind  or  tem- 
per, he  used  to  tell  him,  that  it  was  not  like  a man,  but  rather 


MARCUS  CATO. 


S47 


like  a widow  woman,  to  lessen  an  estate.  But  the  strongest 
indication  of  Cato’s  avaricious  humor  was  when  he  took  the 
boldness  to  affirm,  that  he  was  a most  wonderful,  nay,  a god- 
like man,  who  left  more  behind  him  than  he  had  received. 

He  was  now  grown  old,  when  Carneades  the  Academic, 
and  Diogenes  the  Stoic,  came  as  deputies  from  Athens  to 
Rome,  praying  for  release  from  a penalty  of  five  hundred  tal- 
ents laid  on  the  Athenians,  in  a suit,  to  which  they  did  net 
appear,  in  which  the  Oropians  were  plaintilfs,  and  Sicyonians 
judges.  All  the  most  studious  youth  immediately  waited  on 
these  philosophers,  and  frequently,  with  admiration,  heard 
them  spe_ak.  But  the  gracefulness  of  Carneades’s  oratory, 
whose  ability  was  really  greatest,  and  his  reputation  equal  to 
it,  gathered  large  and  favorable  audiences,  and  ere  long  filled, 
like  a wind,  all  the  city  with  the  sound  of  it.  So  that  it  soon 
began  to  be  told,  that  a Greek,  famous  even  to  admiration, 
winning  and  carrying  all  before  him,  had  impressed  so  strange 
a love  upon  the  young  men,  that  quitting  all  their  pleasures 
and  pastimes,  they  ran  mad,  as  it  were,  after  philosophy  ; 
which  indeed  much  pleased  the  Romans  in  general ; nor  could 
they  but  with  much  pleasure  see  the  youth  receive  so  wel- 
comely  the  Greek  literature,  and  frequent  the  company  of 
learned  men.  But  Cato,  on  the  other  side,  seeing  the  passion 
for  words  flowing  into  the  city,  from  the  beginning,  took  it  ill, 
fearing  lest  the  youth  should  be  diverted  that  way,  and  so 
should  prefer  the  glory  of  speaking  well  before  that  of  arms, 
and  doing  well.  And  when  the  fame  of  the  philosophers  in- 
creased in  the  city,  and  Caius  Acilius,  a person  of  distinction, 
at  his  own  request,  became  their  interpreter  to  the  senate  at 
their  first  audience,  Cato  resolved  under  some  specious  pre- 
tence, to  have  all  philosophers  cleared  out  of  the  city  ; and, 
coming  into  the  senate,  blamed  the  magistrates  for  letting 
these  deputies  stay  so  long  a time  without  being  despatched, 
though  they  were  persons  that  could  easily  persuade  the  peo- 
ple to  what  they  pleased  ; that  therefore  in  all  haste  something 
should  be  determined  about  their  petition,  that  so  they  might 
go  home  again  to  their  own  schools,  and  declaim  to  the  Greek 
children,  and  leave  the  Roman  youth,  to  be  obedient,  as  hith 
erto,  to  their  own  laws  and  governors. 

Yet  he  did  this  not  out  of  any  anger,  as  some  think,  to 
Carneades  ; but  because  he  wholly  despised  philosophy,  and 
out  of  a kind  of  pride,  scolfed  at  the  Greek  studies  and  liter- 
ature ; as,  for  example,  he  would  say,  that  Socrates  was  a 
prating  seditious  fellow,  who  did  his  best  to  tyrannize  over 


548 


MARCUS  CATO, 


his  country,  to  undermine  the  ancient  customs,  and  to  entice 
and  v/ithdraw  the  citizens  to  opinions  contrary  to  the  laws. 
Ridiculing  the  school  of  Isocrates,  he  would  add,  that  his 
scholars  grew  old  men  before  they  had  done  learning  with 
him,  as  if  they  were  to  use  their  art  and  plead  causes  in  the 
court  of  Minos  in  the  next  world.  And  to  frighten  his  son 
from  anything  that  was  Greek,  in  a more  vehement  tone  than 
became  one  of  his  age,  he  pronounced,  as  it  were,  with  the 
voice  of  an  oracle,  that  the  Romans  would  certainly  be  de* 
stroyed  when  they  began  once  to  be  infected  with  Greek  liter- 
ature ; though  time  indeed  has  shown  the  vanity  of  this  his 
prophecy ; as,  in  truth,  the  city  of  Rome  has  risen  to  its  high- 
est fortune,  while  entertaining  Grecian  learning.  Nor  had  he 
an  aversion  only  against  the  Greek  philosophers,  but  the  phy- 
sicians also ; for  having,  it  seems,  heard  how  Hippocrates, 
when  the  king  of  Persia  sent  for  him,  with  offers  of  a fee  of 
several  talents,  said,  that  he  w^ould  never  assist  barbarians 
who  were  enemies  to  the  Greeks  ; he  affirmed,  that  this  was 
now  become  a common  oath  taken  by  all  physicians,  and  en- 
joined his  son  to  have  a care  and  avoid  them  ; for  that  he 
himself  had  written  a little  book  of  prescriptions  for  curing 
those  who  were  sick  in  his  family  ; he  never  enjoined  fasting 
to  any  one,  but  ordered  them  either  vegetables,  or  the  meat 
of  a duck,  pigeon,  or  leveret  ; such  kind  of  diet  being  of  light 
digestion,  and  fit  for  sick  folks,  only  it  made  those  who  ate 
it  dream  a little  too  much  ; and  by  the  use  of  this  kind  of 
physic,  he  said,  he  not  only  made  himself  and  those  about  him 
well,  but  kept  them  so. 

However,  for  this  his  presumption,  he  seemed  not  to  have 
escaped  unpunished  ; for  he  lost  both  his  wife  and  his  son  ; 
though  he  himself,  being  of  a strong,  robust  constitution,  held 
out  longer ; so  that  he  would  often,  even  in  his  old  days,  ad- 
dress himself  to  women,  and  when  he  was  past  a lover’s  age, 
married  a young  woman,  upon  the  following  pretence  : Having 
lost  his  own  wife,  he  married  his  son  to  the  daughter  of  Pau- 
lus  H^^milius,  who  was  sister  to  Scipio;  so  that  being  now  a 
widower  himself,  he  had  a young  girl  who  came  privately  to 
visit  him,  but  the  house  being  very  small,  and  a daughter-in- 
iaw  also  in  it,  this  practice  was  quickly  discovered  ; for  the 
young  woman  seeming  once  to  pass  through  it  a little  too 
boldly,  the  youth,  his  son,  though  he  said  nothing,  seemed  to 
look  somewhat  indignantly  upon  her.  The  old  man  perceiv- 
ing and  understanding  that  what  he  did  w^as  disliked,  without 
finding  any  fault,  or  saying  a word,  went  away  as  his  custom 


MARCUS  CATO. 


549 


was,  with  his  usual  companions  to  the  market : and  among 
the  rest,  he  called  aloud  to  one  Salonius,  who  had  been  a 
clerk  under  him,  and  asked  him  whether  he  had  married  his 
daughter?  He  answered,  no,  nor  would  he,  till  he  had  con- 
sulted him.  Said  Cato,  ‘‘  Then  I have  found  out  a fit  son-in- 
law for  you,  if  he  should  not  displease  by  reason  of  his  age ; 
for  in  all  other  points  there  is  no  fault  to  be  found  in  him  ; 
but  he  is  indeed,  as  I said,  extremely  old.”  However,  Sa- 
lonius  desired  him  to  undertake  the  business,  and  to  give  the 
young  girl  to  whom  he  pleased,  she  being  a humble  servant 
of  his,  who  stood  in  need  of  his  care  and  patronage.  Upon 
this  Cato,  without  any  more  ado,  told  him,  he  desired  to  have 
the  damsel  himself.  These  words,  as  may  well  be  imagined, 
at  first  astonished  the  man,  conceiving  that  Cato  was  as  far 
oif  from  marrying,  as  he  from  a likelihood  of  being  allied  to 
the  family  of  one  who  had  been  consul,  and  had  triumphed ; 
but  perceiving  him  in  earnest,  he  consented  willingly;  and 
going  onwards  to  the  forum,  they  quickly  completed  the  bar- 
gain. 

Whilst  the  marriage  was  in  hand,  Cato’s  son,  taking  some 
of  his  friends  along  with  him,  went  and  asked  his  father  if  it 
were  for  any  offence  he  brought  in  a step-mother  upon  him? 
But  Cato  cried  out,  “ Far  from  it,  my  son,  I have  no  fault  to 
find  with  you  or  any  thing  of  yours  ; only  I desire  to  have 
many  children,  and  to  leave  the  commonwealth  more  such 
citizens  as  you  are.”  Pisistratus,  the  tyrant  of  Athens,  made, 
they  say,  this  answer  to  his  sons,  when  they  were  grown  men, 
when  he  married  his  second  wife,  Timonassa  of  Argos,  by 
vdiom  he  had,  it  is  said,  lophon  and  Thessalus.  Cato  had  a 
son  by  this  second  wife,  to  whom  from  his  mother,  he  gave 
the  surname  of  Salonius.  In  the  mean  time,  his  eldest  died 
in  his  praetorship  ; of  whom  Cato  often  makes  mention  in  his 
books,  as  having  been  a good  man.  He  is  said,  however,  to 
have  borne  the  loss  moderately,  and  like  a philosopher,  and 
was  nothing  the  more  remiss  in  attending  to  affairs  of  state  ; 
BC  that  he  did  not,  as  Lucius  Lucullus  and  Metellus  Pius  did, 
grow  languid  in  his  old  age,  as  though  public  business  were  a 
duty  once  to  be  discharged,  and  then  quitted  ; nor  did  he, 
like  Scipio  Africanus,  because  envy  had  struck  at  his  glory, 
turn  from  the  public,  and  change  and  pass  away  the  rest  of 
his  life  without  doing  any  thing  ; but  as  one  persuaded  Diony- 
sius, that  the  most  honorable  tomb  he  could  have,  would  be 
to  die  in  the  exercise  of  his  dominion  ; so  Cato  thought  that 
old  age  to  be  the  most  honorable,  which  was  busied  in  public 


550 


MARCUS  CATO. 


affairs  ; though  he  would,  now  and  then,  when  he  had  leisurf 
recreate  himself  v;ith  husbandry  and  writing. 

And,  indeed,  he  composed  various  books  and  histories  ; 
and  in  his  youth,  he  addicted  himself  to  agriculture  for  profit’s 
sake ; for  he  used  to  say,  he  had  but  two  ways  of  getting — ■ 
agriculture  and  parsimony  ; and  now,  in  his  old  age,  the  first 
of  these  gave  him  both  occupation  and  a subject  of  study. 
He  wrote  one  book  on  country  matters,  in  which  he  treated 
particularly  even  of  making  cakes,  and  preserving  fruit;  it 
being  his  ambition  to  be  curious  and  singular  in  all  things. 
His  suppers,  at  his  country-house,  used  also  to  be  plentiful; 
he  daily  invited  his  friends  and  neighbors  about  him,  and 
passed  the  time  merrily  with  them  ; so  that  his  company  was 
not  only  agreeable  to  those  of  the  same  age,  but  even  to 
younger  men  ; for  he  had  had  experience  in  many  things,  and 
had  been  concerned  in  much,  both  by  word  and  deed,  that 
was  worth  the  hearing.  He  looked  upon  a good  table,  as  the 
best  place  for  making  friends  ; where  the  commendations  of 
brave  and  good  citizens  were  usually  introduced,  and  little  said 
of  base  and  unworthy  ones  ; as  Cato  would  not  give  leave  in  his 
company  to  have  anything,  either  good  or  ill,  said  about  them. 

Some  will  have  the  overthrow  of  Carthage  to  have  been 
one  of  his  last  acts  of  state  ; when,  indeed,  Scipio  the  younger, 
did  by  his  valor  give  it  the  last  blow,  but  the  war,  chiefly  by 
the  counsel  and  advice  of  Cato,  was  undertaken  on  the  fol- 
lowing occasion.  Cato  was  sent  to  the  Carthaginians  and 
Masinissa,  king  of  Numidia,  who  were  at  war  with  one  another, 
to  know  the  cause  of  their  difference.  He,  it  seems,  had  been 
a friend  of  the  Romans  from  the  beginning;  and  they,  too, 
since  they  were  conquered  by  Scipio,  were  of  the  Roman 
confederacy,  having  been  shorn  of  their  power  by  loss  of 
territory,  and  a heavy  tax.  Finding  Carthage,  not  (as  the 
Romans  thought)  low  and  in  an  ill  condition,  but  well  manned, 
full  of  riches  and  all  sorts  of  arms  and  ammunition,  and 
perceiving  the  Carthaginians  carry  it  high,  he  conceived  that 
it  was  not  a time  for  the  Romans  to  adjust  affairs  between 
them  and  Masinissa;  but  rather  that  they  themselves  would 
fall  into  danger,  unless  they  should  find  means  to  check  this 
rapid  new  growth  of  Rome’s  ancient  irreconcilable  enemy. 
Therefore,  returning  quickly  to  Rome,  he  acquainted  the  senate, 
that  the  former  defeats  and  blows  given  to  the  Carthaginians, 
had  not  so  much  diminished  their  strength,  as  it  had  abated 
their  imprudence  and  folly  ; that  they  were  not  become  weaker, 
but  more  experienced  in  war,  and  did  only  skirmish  with  the 


MARCUS  CATO. 


5S1 


Numidians,  to  exercise  themselves  the  better  to  cope  with  the 
Romans : that  the  peace  and  league  they  had  made  was  but  a 
kind  of  suspension  of  war  which  awaited  a fairer  opportunity 
to  break  out  again. 

Moreover,  they  say  that,  shaking  his  gown,  he  took  oc- 
casion to  let  drop  some  African  figs  before  the  senate.  And 
on  their  admiring  the  size  and  beauty  of  them,  he  presently 
added,  that  the  place  that  bore  them  was  but  three  days’  sail 
from  Rome.  Nay,  he  never  after  this  gave  his  opinion,  but 
at  the  end  he  would  be  sure  to  come  out  with  this  sentence, 
“Also,  Carthage,  methinks,  ought  utterly  to  be  de- 
stroyed.” But  Publius  Scipio  Nasica  would  always  declare 
his  opinion  to  the  contrary,  in  these  words,  “ It  seems  requisite 
to  me  that  Carthage  should  still  stand.”  For  seeing  his 
countrymen  to  be  grown  wanton  and  insolent,  and  the  people 
made,  by  their  prosperity,  obstinate  and  disobedient  to  the 
senate,  and  drawing  the  whole  city,  whither  they  would,  after 
them,  he  would  have  had  the  fear  of  Carthage  to  serve  as  a 
bit  to  hold  in  the  contumacy  of  the  multitude ; and  he  looked 
upon  the  Carthaginians  as  too  weak  to  overcome  the  Romans, 
and  too  great  to  be  despised  by  them.  On  the  other  side,  it 
seemed  a perilous  thing  to  Cato,  that  a city  which  had  been 
always  great,  and  was  now  grown  sober  and  wise,  by  reason 
of  its  former  calamities,  should  still  lie,  as  it  were,  in  wait  for 
the  follies  and  dangerous  excesses  of  the  over-powerful  Roman 
people  ; so  that  he  thought  it  the  wisest  course  to  have  all 
outward  dangers  removed,  when  they  had  so  many  inward 
ones  among  themselves. 

Thus  Cato,  they  say,  stirred  up  the  third  and  last  war 
against  the  Carthaginians : but  no  sooner  was  the  said  war 
begun,  than  he  died,  prophesying  of  the  person  that  should 
put  an  end  to  it,  who  was  then  only  a young  man  ; but,  being 
tribune  in  the  army,  he  in  several  fights  gave  proof  of  his 
courage  and  conduct.  The  news  of  which  being  brought  to 
Cato’s  ears  at  Rome,  he  thus  expressed  himself: — 

The  only  wise  man  of  them  all  is  he, 

The  others  e’en  as  shadows  flit  and  flee. 

Th.s  prophecy  Scipio  soon  confirmed  by  his  actions. 

Cato  left  no  posterity,  except  one  son  by  his  second  wife, 
who  was  named,  as  we  said,  Cato  Salonius ; and  a grandson 
by  his  eldest  son,  who  died.  Cato  Salonius  died  when  he 
was  prastor,  but  his  son  Marcus  was  afterwards  consul,  and  he 
was  grandfather  of  Cato  the  philosopher,  who  for  virtue  and 
renown  was  one  of  the  most  eminent  personages  of  his  time. 


ARISTIDES  AND  MARCUS  CATO. 


SS2 


COMPARISON  OF  ARISTIDES  WITH 
MARCUS  CATO. 

Having  mentioned  the  most  memorable  actions  of  these 
great  men,  if  we  now  compare  the  whole  life  of  the  one  with 
that  of  the  other,  it  will  not  be  easy  to  discern  the  difference 
between  them,  lost  as  it  is  amongst  such  a number  of  circum- 
stances in  which  they  resemble  each  other.  If,  however,  we 
examine  them  in  detail  as  we  might  some  piece  of  poetr}^,  or 
some  picture,  we  shall  find  this  common  to  them  both,  that 
they  advanced  themselves  to  great  honor  and  dignity  in  the 
commonwealth,  by  no  other  means  than  their  own  virtue  and 
industry.  But  it  seems  when  Aristides  appeared,  Athens  was 
not  at  its  height  of  grandeur  and  plenty,  the  chief  magistrates 
and  officers  of  his  time  being  men  only  of  moderate  and  equal 
fortunes  among  themselves.  The  estimate  of  the  greatest 
estates  then,  was  five  hundred  medimns  ; that  of  the  second, 
or  knights,  three  hundred  ; of  the  third  and  last  called  Zeu- 
gitae,  two  hundred.  But  Cato,  out  of  a petty  village  from  a 
country  life,  leaped  into  the  commonwealth,  as  it  were  into  a 
vast  ocean ; at  a time  when  there  were  no  such  governors  as 
the  Curii,  Fabricii,  and  Hostilii.  Poor  laboring  men  were 
not  then  advanced  from  the  plough  and  spade  to  be  governors 
and  magistrates  ; but  greatness  of  family,  riches,  profuse  gifts, 
distributions,  and  personal  application  were  what  the  city 
looked  to  ; keeping  a high  hand,  and,  in  a manner,  insulting 
over  those  that  courted  preferment.  It  was  not  as  great  a 
matter  to  have  Themistocles  for  an  adversary,  a person  of 
mean  extraction  and  small  fortune  (for  he  was  not  worth,  it 
is  said,  more  than  four  or  five  talents  when  he  first  applied 
himself  to  public  affairs),  as  to  contest  with  a Scipio  Africanus, 
a Servius  Galba,  and  a Quintius  Flamininus,  having  no  other 
aid  but  a tongue  free  to  assert  right. 

Besides,  Aristides  at  Marathon,  and  again  at  Plataea,  was 
but  one  commander  out  of  ten  ; whereas  Cato  was  chosen 
consul  with  a single  colleague,  having  many  competitors,  and 
with  a single  colleague,  also,  was  preferred  bef">re  seven  most 
noble  and  eminent  p'-etenders  to  be  censor.  But  Aristides 


ARISTIDES  AND  MARCUS  CATO. 


553 


was  never  principal  in  any  action  ; for  Miltiades  carried  the 
day  at  Marathon,  at  Salamis,  Themistocles,  and  at  Plataea, 
Herodotus  tells  us,  Pausanias  got  the  glory  of  that  noble 
victory  : and  men  like  Sophanes,  and  Aminias,  Callimachus, 
and  Cynaegyrus,  behaved  themselves  so  well  in  all  those  en- 
gagements, as  to  contest  it  with  Aristides  even  for  the  second 
place.  But  Cato  not  only  in  his  consulship  was  esteemed 
the  chief  in  courage  and  conduct  in  the  Spanish  war,  but 
even  whilst  he  was  only  serving  as  tribune  at  Thermopylae, 
under  another’s  command,  he  gained  the  glory  of  the  victory, 
for  having,  as  it  were,  opened  a wide  gate  for  the  Romans  to 
rush  in-  upon  Antiochus,  and  for  having  brought  the  war  on 
his  back,  whilst  he  only  minded  what  was  before  his  face. 
For  that  victory,  which  was  beyond  dispute  all  Cato’s  own 
work,  cleared  Asia  out  of  Greece,  and  by  that  means  made 
way  afterwards  for  Scipio  into  Asia.  Both  of  them,  indeed, 
were  always  victorious  in  war  ; but  at  home  Aristides  stumbled, 
being  banished  and  oppressed  by  the  faction  of  Themistocles  * 
yet  Cato,  notwithstanding  he  had  almost  all  the  chief  and 
most  powerful  of  Rome  for  his  adversaries,  and  wrestled  with 
them  even  to  his  old  age,  kept  still  his  footing.  Engaging 
also  in  many  public  suits,  sometimes  plaintiff,  sometimes 
defendant,  he  cast  the  most,  and  came  off  clear  with  all ; 
thanks  to  his  eloquence,  that  bulwark  and  powerful  instrument 
to  which  more  truly,  than  to  chance  or  his  fortune,  he  owed  it, 
that  he  sustained  himself  unhurt  to  the  last.  Antipater  justly 
gives  it  as  a high  commendation  to  Aristotle,  the  philosopher, 
writing  of  him  after  his  death,  that  among  his  other  virtues, 
he  was  endowed  with  a faculty  of  persuading  people  which 
way  he  pleased. 

Questionless,  there  is  no  perfecter  endowment  in  man  than 
political  virtue,  and  of  this  Economics  is  commonly  esteemed 
not  the  least  part  ; for  a city,  which  is  a collection  of 
private  households,  grows  into  a stable  commonwealth  by 
the  private  means  of  prosperous  citizens  that  compose  it. 
T^ycurgus  by  prohibiting  gold  and  silver  in  Sparta,  and 
making  iron,  spoiled  by  the  fire,  the  only  currency,  did 
not  by  these  measures  discharge  them  from  minding  their 
household  affairs,  but  cutting  off  luxury,  the  corruption  and 
tumor  of  riches,  he  provided  there  should  be  an  abundant  sup- 
ply of  all  necessary  and  useful  things  for  all  persons,  as  much 
as  any  other  law-maker  ever  did  ; being  more  apprehensive  of 
a poor,  needy,  and  indigent  member  of  a community,  than  of 
the  rich  and  haughty.  And  in  this  management  of  domestic 


554 


ARISTIDES  AND  MARCUS  CATO. 


concerns,  Cato  was  as  great  as  in  the  government  of  public 
affairs  ; for  he  increased  his  estate,  and  became  a master  to 
others  in  economy  and  husbandry  ; upon  which  subjects  he 
collected  in  his  writings  many  useful  observations.  On  the 
contrary  Aristides,  by  his  poverty,  made  justice  odious,  as  if 
it  were  the  pest  and  impoverisher  of  a family,  and  beneficial 
to  all,  rather  than  to  those  that  were  endowed  with  it.  Yet 
Hesiod  urges  us  alike  to  just  dealing  and  to  care  of  our  house- 
holds, and  inveighs  against  idleness  as  the  origin  of  injustice ; 
and  Homer  admirably  says  : — 

Work  was  not  dear,  nor  household  cares  to  me, 

Whose  increase  rears  the  thriving  family; 

But  well-rigged  ships  were  always  iny  delight, 

And  wars,  and  darts,  and  arrows  of  the  fight  : 

as  if  the  same  characters  carelessly  neglected  their  own  es- 
tates, and  lived  by  injustice  and  rapine  from  others.  For  it 
is  not  as  the  physicians  say  of  oil,  that  outwardly  applied,  it  is 
very  wholesome,  but  taken  inwardly  detrimental,  that  thus  a 
just  man  provides  carefully  for  others,  and  is  heedless  of  him- 
self and  his  own  affairs ; but  in  this  Aristides’s  political  virtues 
seem  to  be  defective ; since,  according  to  most  authors,  he 
took  no  care  to  leave  his  daughters  a portion,  or  himself 
enough  to  defray  his  funeral  charges : whereas  Cato’s  family 
produced  senators  and  generals  to  the  fourth  generation  ; his 
grandchildren,  and  their  children,  came  to  the  highest  prefer- 
ments. But  Aristides;  who  was  the  principal  man  of  Greece, 
through  extreme  poverty  reduced  some  of  his  to  get  their  liv- 
ing  by  juggler’s  tricks,  others,  for  want,  to  hold  out  their 
hands  for  public  alms  ; leaving  none  means  to  perform  any 
noble  action,  or  worthy  his  dignity. 

Yet  why  should  this  needs  follow  ? since  poverty  is  dishon- 
orable not  in  itself,  but  when  it  is  a proof  of  laziness,  intem- 
perance, luxury,  and  carelessness  ; whereas  in  a person  that 
is  temperate,  industrious,  just,  and  valiant,  and  who  uses  all 
his  virtues  for  the  public  good,  it  shows  a great  and  lofty 
mind.  For  he  has  no  time  for  great  matters,  who  concerns 
himseli  with  petty  ones  ; nor  can  he  relieve  many  needs  of 
others,  who  himself  has  many  needs  of  his  own.  What  most 
of  all  enables  a man  to  serve  the  public  is  not  wealth,  but 
content  and  independence ; which,  requiring  no  superfluity 
at  home,  distracts  not  the  mind  from  the  common  good.  God 
alone  is  entirely  exempt  from  all  want:  of  human  virtues, 
that  which  needs  least,  is  the  most  absolute  and  most  divine, 


ARISTIDES  AND  MARCUS  CATO. 


SS5 


For  as  a body  bred  to  a good  habit,  requires  nothing  exqui- 
site either  in  clothes  or  food,  so  a sound  man  and  a sound 
household  keep  themselves  up  with  a small  matter.  Riches 
ought  to  be  proportioned  to  the  use  we  have  of  them ; for  he 
that  scrapes  together  a great  deal,  making  use  of  but  little, 
is  not  independent ; for  if  he  wants  them  not,  it  is  folly  in  him 
to  make  provision  for  things  which  he  does  not  desire  ; or  if 
he  does  desire  them,  and  restrains  his  enjoyment  out  of 
sordidness,  he  is  miserable.  I would  fain  know  of  Cato  him- 
self, if  we  seek  riches  that  we  may  enjoy  them,  why  is  he 
proud  of  having  a great  deal,  and  being  contented  with  little  ? 
But  if  it  be  noble,  as  it  is,  to  feed  on  coarse  bread,  and  drink 
the  same  wine  with  our  hinds,  and  not  to  covet  purple,  and 
plastered  houses,  neither  Aristides,  nor  Epaminondas,  nor 
Manius  Curius,  nor  Caius  Fabricius  wanted  necessaries,  who 
took  no  pains  to  get  those  things  whose  use  they  approved 
not.  For  it  was  not  worth  the  while  of  a man  who  esteemed 
turnips  a most  delicate  food,  and  who  boiled  them  himself, 
whilst  his  wife  made  bread,  to  brag  so  often  of  a half-penny, 
and  write  a book  to  show  how  a man  may  soonest  grow  rich ; 
the  very  good  of  being  contented  with  little  is  because  it  cuts 
off  at  once  the  desire  and  the  anxiety  for  superfluities. 
Hence  Aristides,  it  is  told,  said,  on  the  trial  of  Callias,  that  it 
was  for  them  to  blush  at  poverty,  who  were  poor  against  their 
wills ; they  who  like  him  were  willingly  so  might  glory  in  it. 
For  it  is  ridiculous  to  think  Aristides’s  neediness  imputable 
to  his  sloth,  who  might  fairly  enough  by  the  spoil  of  one  bar- 
barian, or  seizing  one  tent,  have  become  wealthy.  But  enough 
of  this. 

Cato’s  expeditions  added  no  great  matter  to  tne  Roman 
empire,  which  already  was  so  great,  as  that  in  a manner  it 
could  receive  no  addition  ; but  those  of  Aristides  are  the 
noblest,  most  splendid,  and  distinguished  actions  the  Gre- 
cians ever  did,  the  battles  at  Marathon,  Salamis,  and  Plataea. 
Nor  indeed  is  Antiochus,  nor  the  destruction  of  the  walls  of 
the  Spanish  towns,  to  be  compared  with  Xerxes,  and  the 
destruction  by  sea  and  land  of  so  many  myriads  of  enemies ; 
in  all  of  which  noble  exploits  Aristides  yielded  to  none,  though 
he  left  the  glory,  and  the  laurels,  like  the  wealth  and  money,  to 
those  who  needed  and  thirsted  more  greedily  after  them  : be- 
cause he  was  superior  to  those  also.  I do  not  blame  Cato  for 
perpetually  boasting  and  preferring  himself  before  all  others, 
though  in  one  of  his  orations,  he  says,  that  it  is  equally  ab- 
surd to  praise  and  dispraise  one’s  self:  yet  he  who  does  not 


55^ 


PHILOPCEMEN. 


SO  much  as  desire  others’  praises,  seems  lo  me  more  perfectly 
virtuous^  than  he  who  is  always  extolling  himself.  A mind 
free  from  ambition  is  a main  help  to  political  gentleness  ; 
ambition,  on  the  contrary,  is  hard-hearted,  and  the  greatest 
fomenter  of  envy  ; from  which  Aristides  was  wholly  exempt  ; 
Cato  very  subject  to  it.  Aristides  assisted  Themistocles  in 
matters  of  highest  importance,  and,  as  his  subordinate  officer, 
in  a manner  raised  Athens : Cato,  by  opposing  Scipio,  almost 
broke  and  defeated  his  expedition  against  the  Carthaginians, 
in  which  he  overthrew  Hannibal,  who  till  then  was  even 
invincible  ; and,  at  last,  by  continually  raising  suspicions  and 
calumnies  against  him  he  chased  him  from  the  city,  and  in- 
flicted a disgraceful  sentence  on  his  brother  for  robbing  the 
state. 

Finally,  that  temperance  which  Cato  always  highly  cried 
up,  Aristides  preserved  truly  pure  and  untainted.  But  Cato’s 
marriage,  unbecoming  his  dignity  and  age,  is  a considerable 
disparagement,  in  this  respect,  to  his  character.  For  it  was 
not  decent  for  him  at  that  age  to  bring  home  to  his  son  and 
his  wife  a young  woman,  the  daughter  of  a common  paid 
clerk  in  the  public  service  : but  whether  it  were  for  his  own 
gratification  or  out  of  anger  at  his  son,  both  the  fact  and  the 
pretence  were  unworthy.  For  the  reason  he  pretended  to  his 
son  was  false  : for  if  he  desired  to  get  more  as  worthy  chil- 
dren, he  ought  to  have  married  a well-born  wife  ; not  to  have 
contented  himself,  so  long  as  it  was  unnoticed,  with  a woman 
to  whom  he  was  not  married ; and,  when  it  was  discovered, 
he  ought  not  to  have  chosen  such  a father-in-law  as  was  easiest 
to  be  got,  instead  of  ono  whose  affinity  might  be  honorable 
to  him. 


PHILOPOEMEN. 

Cleander  was  a man  of  high  birth  and  great  power  in 
the  city  of  Man  tinea,  but  by  the  chances  of  the  time  happened 
to  be  driven  from  thence.  There  being  an  intimate  friend- 
ship betwixt  him  and  Craugis,  the  father  of  Philopoemen,  who 
was  a person  of  great  distinction,  he  settled  at  Megalopolis, 
where,  while  his  friend  lived,  he  had  all  he  could  desire. 
When  Craugis  died,  he  repaid  the  father’s  hospitable  kindness 
in  the  care  of  the  orphan  son  ; by  which  means  Philopoemen 


PHILOPGEMEN. 


5S7 


was  educated  by  him,  as  Homer  says  Achilles  was  by  Phcenix, 
and  from  his  infancy  moulded  to  lofty  and  noble  fnclinations. 
But  Ecdemus  and  Demophanes  had  the  principal  tuition  of 
him,  after  he  was  past  the  years  of  childhood.  They  were 
both  Megalopolitans  ; they  had  been  scholars  in  the  academic 
philosophy,  and  friends  to  Arcesilaus,  and  had,  more  than 
^ any  of  their  contemporaries,  brought  philosophy  to  bear  upon 
action,  and  state  affairs.  They  had  freed  their  country  from 
tyranny  by  the  death  of  Aristodemus,  whom  they  caused  to 
be  killed  ; they  had  assisted  Aratus  in  driving  out  the  tyrant 
Nicocles  from  Sicyon  ; and,  at  the  request  of  the  Cyreneans, 
whose  city  was  in  a state  of  extreme  disorder  and  confusion, 
went  thither  by  sea,  and  succeeded  in  establishing  good  gov- 
ernment and  happily  settling  their  commonwealth.  And 
among  their  best  actions  they  themselves  counted  the  educa- 
tion of  Philopoemen,  thinking  they  had  done  a general  good 
to  Greece,  by  giving  him  the  nurture  of  philosophy.  And 
indeed  all  Greece  (which  looked  upon  him  as  a kind  of  lat- 
ter birth  brought  forth,  after  so  many  noble  leaders,  in  her 
decrepid  age)  loved  him  wonderfully  ; and,  as  his  glory  grew, 
increased  his  power.  And  one  of  the  Romans,  to  praise  him, 
calls  him  the  last  of  the  Greeks ; as  if  after  him  Greece  had 
produced  no  great  man,  nor  who  deserved  the  name  of 
Greek. 

His  person  was  not,  as  some  fancy,  deformed  ; for  his 
likeness  is  yet  to  be  seen  at  Delphi.  The  mistake  of  the 
hostess  of  Megara  was  occasioned,  it  would  seem,  merely  by 
his  easiness  of  temper  and  his  plain  manners.  This  hostess 
having  word  brought  her,  that  the  General  of  the  Achaeans 
was  coming  to  her  house  in  the  absence  of  her  husband,  was 
all  in  a hurry  about  providing  his  supper.  Philopoemen,  in 
an  ordinary  cloak,  arriving  in  this  point  of  time,  she  took  him 
for  one  of  his  own  train  who  had  been  sent  on  before,  and 
bid  him  lend  her  his  hand  in  her  household  work.  He  forth- 
with threw  off  his  cloak,  and  fell  to  cutting  up  the  fire-wood. 
The  husband  returning,  and  seeing  him  at  it,  “ What,’’  says 
he,  may  this  mean,  O Philopoemen  ? ” ‘‘  I am,”  replied  he 

in  his  Doric  dialect,  “ paying  the  penalty  of  my  ugly  looks.” 
Titus  Flamininus,  jesting  with  him  upon  his  figure,  told  him 
one  day,  he  had  well-shaped  hands  and  feet,  but  no  belly  : 
and  he  was  indeed  slender  in  the  waist.  But  this  raillery  was 
meant  to  the  poverty  of  his  fortune  ; for  he  had  good  horse 
and  foot,  but  often  wanted  money  to  entertain  and  pay  them. 
These  are  common  anecdotes  told  of  PhiloDcemen. 


5S8 


PHILOPCEMEN. 


The  love  of  honor  and  distinction  was,  in  his  character, 
not  unalloyed  with  feelings  of  personal  rivalry  and  resentment. 
He  made  Epaminondas  his  great  example,  and  came  not  far 
behind  him  in  activity,  sagacity,  and  incorruptible  integrity  ; 
but  his  hot  contentious  temper  continually  carried  him  out 
of  the  bounds  of  that  gentleness,  composure,  and  humanity 
vi'hich  had  marked  Epaminondas,  and  this  made  him  thought 
a pattern  rather  of  military  than  of  civil  virtue.  He  was 
strongly  inclined  to  the  life  of  a soldier  even  from  his  child- 
hoo:’  and  he  studied  and  practised  ail  that  belonged  to  it, 
taking  great  delight  in  managing  of  horses,  and  handling  of 
weapons.  Because  he  was  naturally  fitted  to  excel  in  wrest- 
ling, some  of  his  friends  and  tutors  recommended  his  attention 
to  athletic  exercises.  But  he  would  first  be  satisfied  whether 
it  would  not  interfere  with  his  becoming  a good  soldier. 
They  told  him,  as  was  the  truth,  that  the  one  life  was  directly 
opposite  to  the  other  ; the  requisite  state  of  body,  the  ways 
of  living,  and  the  exercises  all  different : the  professed  athlete 
sleeping  much,  and  feeding  plentifully,  punctually  regular  in  his 
set  times  of  exercise  and  rest,  and  apt  to  spoil  all  by  every 
little  excess,  or  breach  of  his  usual  method  ; whereas  the 
soldier  ought  to  train  himself  in  every  variety  of  change  and 
irregularity,  and,  above  all,  to  bring  himself  to  endure  hunger 
and  loss  of  sleep  without  difficulty.  Philopoemen,  hearing 
this,  not  only  laid  by  all  thoughts  of  wrestling  and  contemned 
it  then,  but  wh%n  he  came  to  be  general,  discouraged  it  by  all 
marks  of  reproach  and  dishonor  he  could  imagine,  as  a thing 
which  made  men,  otherwise  excellently  fit  for  war,  to  be 
utterly  useless  and  unable  to  fight  on  necessary  occasions. 

When  he  left  off  his  masters  and  teachers,  and  began  to 
bear  arms  in  the  incursions  which  his  citizens  used  to  make 
upon  the  Lacedsemonians  for  pillage  and  plunder,  he  would 
always  march  out  the  first,  and  return  the  last.  When  there 
was  nothing  to  do,  he  sought  to  harden  his  body,  and  make 
it  strong  and  active  by  hunting,  or  laboring  in  his  ground. 
He  had  a good  estate  about  twenty  furlongs  from  the  town, 
and  thither  he  would  go  every  day  after  dinner  and  supper  ; 
and  when  night  came,  throw  himself  upon  the  first  mattress 
in  his  wiy,  and  there  sleep  as  one  of  the  laborers.  At  break 
of  day  he  would  rise  with  the  rest,  and  work  either  in  the 
vineyard  or  at  the  plough  ; from  thence  return  again  to  the 
town,  and  employ  his  time  with  his  friends  or  the  magistrates 
in  public  business.  What  he  got  in  the  wars,  he  laid  out  on 
horses,  or  arms,  or  in  ransoming  captives  ; but  endeavored 


PHILOP(T.MEN. 


559 


to  improve  his  own  property  the  justest  way,  by  tillage  ; and 
this  not  slightly,  by  way  of  diversion,  but  thinking  it  his  strict 
duty,  so  to  manage  his  own  fortune,  as  to  be  out  of  the  temp- 
tation of  wronging  others. 

He  spent  much  time  on  eloquence  and  philosophy,  but 
selected  his  authors,  and  cared  only  for  those  by  whom  he 
might  profit  in  virtue.  In  Homer’s  fictions  his  attention  was 
given  to  whatever  he  thought  apt  to  raise  the  courage.  Of 
all  other  books  he  was  most  devoted  to  the  commentaries  of 
Evangelus  on  military  tactics,  and  also  took  delight,  at  leisure 
hours,  in  the  histories  of  Alexander  ; thinking  that  such  read- 
ing, unless  undertaken  for  mere  amusement  and  idle  conver- 
sation, was  to  the  purpose  for  action.  Even  in  speculations 
on  military  subjects  it  was  his  habit  to  neglect  maps  and 
diagrams,  and  to  put  the  theorems  to  practical  proof  on  the 
ground  itself.  He  would  be  exercising  his  thoughts  and  con- 
sidering, as  he  travelled,  and  arguing  with  those  about  him  of 
the  difficulties  of  steep  or  broken  ground,  what  might  happen  at 
rivers,  ditches  or  mountain-passes,  in  marching  in  close  or  in 
open,  in  this  or  in  that  particular  form  of  battle.  The  truth 
is,  he  indeed  took  an  immoderate  pleasure  in  military  opera- 
tions and  in  warfare,  to  which  he  devoted  himself,  as  the 
special  means  for  exercising  all  sorts  of  virtue,  and  utterly 
contemned  those  who  were  not  soldiers,  as  drones  and  useless 
in  the  commonwealth. 

When  he  was  thirty  years  of  age,  Cleomenes,  king  of  the 
Lacedaemonians,  surprised  Megalopolis  by  night,  forced  the 
guards,  broke  in,  and  seized  the  market-place.  Philopoemen 
came  out  upon  the  alarm,  and  fought  with  desperate  courage, 
but  could  not  beat  the  enemy  out  again  ; yet  he  succeeded  in 
effecting  the  escape  of  the  citizens,  who  got  away  while  he 
made  head  against  the  pursuers,  and  amused  Cleomenes,  till, 
after  losing  his  horse  and  receiving  several  wounds,  with 
much  ado  he  Cetme  off  himself,  being  the  last  man  in  the 
retreat.  The  Megalopolitans  escaped  to  Messene,  whither 
Cleomenes  sent  to  offer  them  their  town  and  goods  again, 
Philopoemen  perceiving  them  to  be  only  too  glad  at  the  news, 
and  eager  to  return,  checked  them  with  a speech,  in  which  he 
made  them  sensible,  that  what  Cleomenes  called  restoring 
the  city,  was,  rather,  possessing  himself  of  the  citizens  ; and 
through  their  means  securing  also  the  city  for  the  future. 
The  mere  solitude  would,  of  itself,  ere  long  force  him  away, 
since  there  was  no  staying  to  guard  empty  houses  and  naked 
walls.  These  reasons  withheld  the  Megalopolitans,  but  gave 


560 


PHILOPGEMEN. 


Cleomenes  a pretext  to  pillage  and  destroy  a great  part  of 
the  city,  and  carry  away  a great  booty. 

Awhile  after  king  Antigonus  coming  down  to  succor  the 
Achaeans,  they  marched  with  their  united  forces  against 
Cleomenes  ; who,  having  seized  the  avenues,  lay  advantage- 
ously posted  on  the  hills  of  Sellasia.  Antigonus  drew  up 
close  by  him,  with  a resolution  to  force  him  in  his  strength. 
Philopoemen,  with  his  citizens,  was  that  day  placed  among 
the  horse,  next  to  the  Illyrian  foot,  a numerous  body  of  bold 
lighters,  who  completed  the  line  of  battle,  forming,  together 
with  the  Achaeans,  the  reserve.  Their  orders  were  to  keep 
their  ground,  and  not  engage  till  from  the  other  wing,  where 
the  king  fought  in  person,  they  should  see  a red  coat  lifted  up 
on  the  point  of  a spear.  The  Achaeans  obeyed  their  order 
and  stood  fast,  but  the  Illyrians  were  led  on  by  their  com- 
manders to  the  attack.  Euclides,  the  brother  of  Cleomenes, 
seeing  the  foot  thus  severed  from  the  horse,  detached  the  best 
of  his  light-armed  men,  commanding  them  to  wheel  about, 
and  charge  the  unprotected  Illyrians  in  the  rear.  This  charge 
putting  things  in  confusion,  Philopoemen,  considering  those 
light-armed  men  would  be  easily  repelled,  went  first  to  the 
king’s  officers  to  make  them  sensible  what  the  occasion 
required.  But  they  not  minding  what  he  said,  but  slighting 
him  as  a hair-brained  fellow  (as  indeed  he  was  not  yet  of  any 
repute  sufficient  to  give  credit  to  a proposal  of  such  impor- 
tance), he  charged  with  his  own  citizens,  at  the  first  encounter 
disordered,  and  soon  after  put  the  troops  to  flight  with  great 
slaughter.  Then,  to  encourage  the  king’s  army  further,  to 
bring  them  all  upon  the  enemy  while  he  was  in  confusion,  he 
quitted  his  horse,  and  fighting  with  extreme  difficulty  in  his 
heavy  horseman’s  dress,  in  rough  uneven  ground,  full  of 
water-courses  and  hollows,  had  both  his  thighs  struck  through 
with  a thonged  javelin.  It  was  thrown  with  great  force,  so 
that  the  head  came  out  on  the  other  side,  and  made  a severe, 
though  not  a mortal,  wound.  There  he  stood  awhile,  as  if 
he  had  been  shackled,  unable  to  move.  The  fastening  which 
joined  the  thong  to  the  javelin  made  it  difficult  to  get  it  drawn 
out,  nor  would  any  about  him  venture  to  do  it.  But  the  fight 
being  now  at  the  hottest,  and  likely  to  be  quickly  decided,  he 
was  transported  with  the  desire  of  partaking  in  it,  and  strug- 
gled and  strained  so  violently,  setting  one  leg  forward,  the 
other  back,  that  at  last  he  broke  the  shaft  in  two  ; and  thus 
got  the  pieces  pulled  out.  Being  in  this  manner  set  at 
liberty,  he  caught  up  his  sword,  and  running  through  the 


PHILOPCEMEN. 


i:;6l 

midst  of  those  who  were  fighting  in  the  first  ranks,  animated 
his  men,  and  set  them  afire  with  emulation.  Antigonus  after 
the  victory,  asked  the  Macedonians,  to  try  them  how  it  hap- 
pened the  horse  had  charged  without  orders  before  the 
signal  ? They  answering,  that  they  were  against  their  wills 
forced  to  it  by  a young  man  of  Megalopolis,  who  had  fallen 
in  before  his  time  : “ that  young  man,”  replied  Antigonus 
smiling,  “ did  like  an  experienced  commander.” 

This,  as  was  natural,  brought  Philopoemen  into  great  reputa- 
tion. Antigonus  was  earnest  to  have  him  in  his  service,  and 
offered  him  very  advantageous  conditions,  both  as  to  command 
and  pay.  But  Philopoemen,  who  knew  that  his  nature  brooked 
not  to  be  under  another,  would  not  accept  them  ; yet  not 
enduring  to  live  idle,  and  hearing  of  wars  in  Crete,  for  prac- 
tice sake  he  passed  over  thither.  He  spent  some  time  among 
those  very  warlike,  and,  at  the  same  time,  sober  and  temper- 
ate men,  improving  much  by  experience  in  all  sorts  of  service  ; 
and  then  returned  with  so  much  fame,  that  the  Achaeans 
presently  chose  him  commander  of  the  horse.  These  horse- 
men at  that  time  had  neither  experience  nor  bravery,  it  being 
the  custom  to  take  any  common  horses,  the  first  and  cheapest 
they  could  procure,  when  they  were  to  march  ; and  on  almost 
all  occasions  they  did  not  go  themselves,  but  hired  others  in 
their  places,  and  staid  at  home.  Their  former  commanders 
winked  at  this,  because,  it  being  an  honor  among  the  Achaeans 
to  serve  on  horseback,  these  men  had  great  power  in  the 
commonwealth,  and  were  able  to  gratify  or  molest  whom  they 
pleased.  Philopoemen,  finding  them  in  this  condition,  yielded 
not  to  any  such  considerations,  nor  would  pass  it  over  as 
formerly  ; but  went  himself  from  town  to  town,  where,  speak- 
ing with  the  young  men,  one  by  one,  he  endeavored  to  excite 
a spirit  of  ambition  and  love  of  honor  among  them,  using 
punishment  also,  where  it  was  necessary.  And  then  by 
public  exercises,  reviews,  and  contests  in  the  presence  of 
numerous  spectators,  in  a little  time  he  made  them  wonder- 
fully strong  and  bold,  and,  which  is  reckoned  of  greatest 
consequence  in  military  service,  light  and  agile.  With  use 
and  industry  they  grew  so  perfect,  to  such  a command  of 
their  horses,  such  a ready  exactness  in  wheeling  round  in 
their  troops,  that  in  any  change  of  posture  the  whole  body 
seemed  to  move  with  all  the  facility  and  promptitude,  and, 
as  it  were,  with  the  single  will  of  one  man.  In  the  great 
battle,  which  they  fought  with  the  ^tolians  and  Eleans  by  the 
river  Larissus,  he  set  them  an  example  himself.  Damophan- 

36 


PHILOPCEMEN. 


562 

tus,  general  of  the  Elean  horse,  singled  out  Philopoemen,  and 
rode  with  full  speed  at  him.  Philopoemen  awaited  his  charge, 
and,  before  receiving  the  stroke,  with  a violent  blow  of  his 
spear  threw  him  dead  to  the  ground : upon  whose  fall  the 
enemy  fled  immediately.  And  now  Philopoemen  was  in  every- 
body's mouth,  as  a man  who  in  actual  fighting  with  his  own 
hand  yielded  not  to  the  youngest,  nor  in  good  conduct  to  the 
oldest,  and  there  came  not  into  the  field  any  better  soldier  or 
commander. 

Aratus,  indeed,  was  the  first  who  raised  the  Achaeans,  in- 
considerable till  then,  into  reputation  and  power,  by  uniting 
their  divided  cities  into  one  commonwealth,  and  establishing 
amongst  them  an  humane  and  truly  Grecian  form  of  govern- 
ment; and  hence  it  happened,  as  in  running  waters,  where, 
when  a few  little  particles  of  matter  once  stop,  others  stick  to 
them,  and  one  part  strengthening  another,  the  whole  becomes 
firm  and  solid  ; so  in  a general  weakness,  when  every  city  re- 
lying only  on  itself,  all  Greece  was  giving  way  to  an  easy  dis- 
solution, the  Achaeans,  first  forming  themselves  into  a body, 
and  then  drawing  in  their  neighbors  round  about,  some  by 
protection,  delivering  them  from  their  tyrants,  others  by  peace- 
ful consent  and  by  naturalization,  designed  at  last  to  bring  all 
Peloponnesus  into  one  community.  Yet  while  Aratus  lived, 
they  depended  much  on  the  Macedonians,  courting  first 
Ptolemy,  then  Antigonus  and  Philip,  who  all  took  part  con- 
tinually in  whatever  concerned  the  affairs  of  Greece.  But 
when  Philopoemen  came  to  a command,  the  Achaeans,  feel- 
ing themselves  a match  for  the  most  powerful  of  their  enemies, 
declined  foreign  support.  The  truth  is,  Aratus,  as  we  have 
written  in  his  life,  was  not  of  so  warlike  a temper,  but  did 
most  by  policy  and  gentleness,  and  friendships  with  foreign 
princes ; but  Philopoemen  being  a man  both  of  execution  and 
command,  a great  soldier,  and  fortunate  in  his  first  attempts, 
wonderfully  heightened  both  the  power  and  courage  of  the 
.\chaeans,  accustomed  to  victory  under  his  conduct. 

But  first  he  altered  what  he  found  amiss  in  their  arms,  and 
form  of  battle.  Hitherto  they  had  used  light,  thin  bucklers, 
coo  narrow  to  cover  the  body,  and  javelins  much  shorter  than 
pikes.  By  which  means  they  were  skilful  in  skirmishing  at  a 
distance,  but  in  a close  fight  had  much  the  disadvantage. 
Then  in  drawing  their  forces  up  for  battle,  they  were  never 
accustomed  to  form  in  regular  divisions  ; and  their  line  being 
unprotected  either  by  the  thick  array  of  projecting  spears  or 
by  their  shields,  as  in  the  Macedonian  phalanx,  where  the 


PHILOPCEMEN. 


5^3 


soldiers  shoulder  close  and  their  shields  touch,  they  were 
easily  opened,  and  broken.  Philopoemen  reformed  all  this, 
persuading  them  to  change  the  narrow  target  and  short  javelin, 
into  a large  shield  and  long  pike  ; to  arm  their  heads,  bodies, 
thighs,  and  legs  ; and  instead  of  loose  skirmishing,  fight  firmly 
and  foot  to  foot.  After  he  had  brought  them  all  to  wear  full 
armor,  and  by  that  means  into  the  confidence  of  thinking 
themselves  now  invincible,  he  turned  what  before  had  been 
idle  profusion  and  luxury  into  an  honorable  expense.  For 
being  long  used  to  vie  with  each  other  in  their  dress,  the  fur- 
niture of  their  houses,  and  service  of  their  tables,  and  to  glory 
in  outdoing  one  another,  the  disease  by  custom  was  grown  in- 
curable, and  there  was  no  possibility  of  removing  it  altogether. 
But  he  diverted  the  passion,  and  brought  them,  instead  of 
these  superfluities,  to  love  useful  and  more  manly  display,  and 
reducing  their  other  expenses,  to  take  delight  in  appearing 
magnificent  in  their  equipage  of  war.  Nothing  then  was  to  be 
seen  in  the  shops  but  plate  breaking  up,  or  melting  down, 
gilding  of  breastplate,  and  studding  bucklers  and  bits  with 
silver  ; nothing  in  the  places  of  exercise,  but  horses  managing, 
and  young  men  exercising  their  arms ; nothing  in  the  hands 
of  the  women,  but  helmets  and  crests  of  feathers  to  be  dyed, 
and  military  cloaks  and  riding-frocks  to  be  embroidered ; the 
very  sight  of  all  which,  quickening  and  raising  their  spirits, 
made  them  contemn  dangers,  and  feel  ready  to  venture  on  any 
honorable  dangers.  Other  kinds  of  sumptuosity  give  us 
pleasure,  but  make  us  effeminate ; the  tickling  of  the  sense 
slackening  the  vigor  of  the  mind  ; but  magnificence  of  this 
kind  strengthens  and  heightens  the  courage  ; as  Homer  makes 
Achilles  at  the  sight  of  his  new  arms  exulting  with  joy,  and 
on  fire  to  use  them.  When  Philopoemen  had  obtained  of 
them  to  arm,  and  set  themselves  out  in  this  manner,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  train  them,  mustering  and  exercising  them  perpetu- 
ally ; in  which  they  obeyed  him  with  great  zeal  and  eagerness. 
For  they  were  wonderfully  pleased  with  their  new  form  of 
battle,  which  being  so  knit  and  cemented  together,  seemed 
almost  incapable  of  being  broken.  And  then  their  arms, 
which  for  their  riches  and  beauty  they  wore  with  pleasure,  be- 
coming light  and  easy  to  them  with  constant  use,  they  longed 
for  nothing  more  than  to  try  them  with  an  enemy,  and  fight  in 
earnest. 

The  Achaeans  at  that  time  were  at  war  with  Machanidas, 
the  tyrant  of  Lacedaemon,  who,  having  a strong  army,  watched 
all  opportunities  of  becoming  entire  master  of  Peloponnesus 


5^4 


PFIILOPCEMEN. 


When  intelligence  came  that  he  was  fallen  upon  the  Mantlne 
ans,  Philopoemen  forthwith  took  the  field,  and  'marched  to 
wards  him.  They  met  near  IMantinea,  and  drew  up  in  sight 
of  the  city.  Both,  besides  the  whole  strength  of  their  several 
cities,  had  a good  number  of  mercenaries  in  pay.  When 
they  came  to  fall  on,  Machanidas,  with  his  hired  soldiers,  beat 
the  spearmen  and  the  Tarentines  whom  Philopoemen  had 
placed  in  the  front.  But  when  he  should  have  charged  imme- 
diately into  the  main  battle,  which  stood  close  and  firm,  he 
hotly  followed  the  chase;  and  instead  of  attacking  the  Achae- 
ans,  passed  on  beyond  them,  while  they  remained  drawn  up 
in  their  place.  With  so  untoward  a beginning  the  rest  of  the 
confederates  gave  themselves  up  for  lost ; but  Philopoemen, 
professing  to  make  it  a matter  of  small  consequence,  and  ob- 
serving the  enemy’s  oversight,  wdio  had  thus  left  an  opening 
in  their  main  body,  and  exposed  their  own  phalanx,  made  no 
sort  of  motion  to  oppose  them,  but  let  them  pursue  the  chase 
freely,  till  they  had  placed  themselves  at  a great  distance  from 
him.  Then  seeing  the  Lacedaemonians  before  him  deserted 
by  their  horse,  with  their  fianks  quite  bare,  he  charged  sud- 
denly, and  surprised  them  without  a commander,  and  not  so 
much  as  expecting  an  encounter,  as,  when  they  saw  Machan- 
idas driving  the  beaten  enemy  before  him,  they  thought  the 
victory  already  gained.  He  overthrew  them  with  great 
slaughter  (they  report  above  four  thousand  killed  in  the 
place),  and  then  faced  about  against  Machanidas,  who  was 
returning  with  his  mercenaries  from  the  pursuit.  There  hap- 
pened to  be  a broad  deep  ditch  between  them,  along  side 
of  which  both  rode  their  horses  for  awhile,  the  one  trying  to 
get  over  and  fly,  the  other  to  hinder  him.  It  looked  less  like 
the  contest  between  two  generals  than  like  the  last  defence  of 
some  wild  beast,  brought  to  bay  by  the  keen  huntsman  Philo- 
poemen, and  forced  to  fight  for  his  life.  The  tyrant’s  horse 
was  mettled  and  strong  ; and  feeling  the  bloody  spurs  in  his 
sides,  ventured  to  take  the  ditch.  He  had  already  so  far 
reached  the  other  side,  as  to  have  planted  his  fore-feet  upon 
it,  and  was  struggling  to  raise  himself  with  these,  when  Sim- 
mias  and  Polyaenus,  who  used  to  fight  by  the  side  of  Philo- 
poemen, came  up  on  horseback  to  his  assistance.  But  Philo- 
poemen, before  either  of  them,  himself  met  Machanidas  ; and 
perceiving  that  the  horse  with  his  head  high  reared,  covered 
his  master’s  body,  turned  his  own  a little,  and  holding  his 
javelin  by  the  middle,  drove  it  against  the  tyrant  with  all  his 
force,  and  tumbled  him  dead  into  the  ditch.  Such  is  the  pre* 


PHILOPOEMEN. 


S^S 


cise  posture  in  which  he  stands  at  Delphi  in  the  brazen  statue 
which  the  Achaeans  set  up  of  him,  in  admiration  of  his  valor 
in  this  single  combat,  and  conduct  during  the  whole  day. 

We  are  told  that  at  the  Nemean  games,  a little  after  this 
victory,  Philopoemen  being  then  General  the  second  time,  and 
at  leisure  on  the  occasion  of  the  solemnity,  first  showed  the 
Greeks  his  army  drawn  up  in  full  array  as  if  they  were  to 
fight,  and  executed  with  it  all  the  manoeuvres  of  a battle  with 
wonderful  order,  strength,  and  celerity.  After  which  he  went 
into  the  theatre,  while  the  musicians  were  singing  for  the 
prize,  followed  by  the  young  soldiers  in  their  military  cloaks 
and  their  scarlet  frocks  under  their  armor,  all  in  the  very 
height  of  bodily  vigor,  and  much  alike  in  age,  showing  a high 
respect  to  their  general ; yet  breathing  at  the  same  time  a 
noble  confidence  in  themselves,  raised  by  success  in  many 
glorious  encounters.  Just  at  their  coming  in,  it  so  happened 
that  the  musician  Pylades,  with  a voice  well  suited  to  the  lofty 
style  of  poet,  was  in  the  act  of  commencing  the  Persians  of 
Timotheus, 

Under  his  conduct  Greece  was  glorious  and  was  free. 

The  whole  theatre  at  once  turned  to  look  at  Philopoemen,  and 
clapped  with  delight ; their  hopes  venturing  once  more  to  re- 
turn to  their  country’s  former  reputation  ; and  their  feelings 
almost  rising  to  the  height  of  their  ancient  spirit. 

It  was  with  the  Achseans  as  with  young  horses,  which 
go  quietly  with  their  usual  riders,  but  grow  unruly  and  restive 
under  strangers.  The  soldiers,  when  any  service  was  in  hand, 
and  Philopoemen  not  at  their  head,  grew  dejected  and  looked 
about  for  him  ; but  if  he  once  appeared,  came  presently  to 
themselves,  and  recovered  their  confidence  and  courage,  being 
sensible  that  this  was  the  only  one  of  their  commanders  whom 
the  enemy  could  not  endure  to  face ; but,  as  appeared  in  sev- 
eral occasions,  were  frighted  with  his  very  name.  Thus  we  find 
that  Philip,  king  of  Macedon,  thinking  to  terrify  the  Achai- 
ans  intc  subjection  again,  if  he  could  rid  his  hands  of  Philo 
poemen,  employed  some  persons  privately  to  assassinate  him. 
But  the  treachery  coming  to  light,  he  became  infamous,  and 
lost  his  character  through  Greece.  The  Boeotians  besieging 
Megara,  and  ready  to  carry  the  town  by  storm,  upon  a ground- 
less rumor,  that  Philopoemen  was  at  hand  with  succor,  ran 
away,  and  left  their  scaling  ladders  at  the  wall  behind  them. 
Nabis  (who  was  tyrant  of  Lacedaemon  after  Machanidas), 
had  surprised  Messene  at  a time  when  Philopoemen  was  out 


S66 


PHILOPCiMEN. 


of  command.  He  tried  to  persuade  Lysippus,  then  Geneial 
of  the  Achaeans,  to  succor  Messene  : but  not  prevailing  with 
him,  because,  he  said,  the  enemy  being  now  within  it,  the  place 
was  irrecoverably  lost,  he  resolved  to  go  himself,  without 
order  or  commission,  followed  merely  by  his  own  immediate 
fellow-citizens  who  went  with  him  as  their  general  by  commis- 
sion from  nature,  which  had  made  him  fittest  to  command. 
Nabis,  hearing  of  his  coming,  though  his  army  quartered 
within  the  town,  thought  it  not  convenient  to  stay  ; but  steal- 
ing out  of  the  furthest  gate  with  his  men,  marched  away  whh 
all  the  speed  he  could,  thinking  himself  a happy  man  if 
he  could  get  off  with  safety.  And  he  did  escape  ; but  Messene 
was  rescued. 

All  hitherto  makes  for  the  praise  and  honor  of  Philopoe- 
men.  But  when  at  the  request  of  the  Gortynians  he  went 
away  into  Crete  to  command  for  them,  at  a time  when  his 
own  country  was  distressed  by  Nabis,  he  exposed  himself  to 
the  charge  of  either  cowardice,  or  unseasonable  ambition  of 
honor  amongst  foreigners.  For  the  Megalopolitans  were  then 
so  pressed,  that,  the  enemy  being  master  of  the  field  and  en- 
camping almost  at  their  gates,  they  were  forced  to  keep  them- 
selves within  their  walls,  and  sow  their  very  streets.  And  he 
in  the  mean  time,  across  the  seas,  waging  war  and  command- 
ing in  chief  in  a foreign  nation,  furnished  his  ill-wishers  with 
matter  enough  for  their  reproaches.  Some  said  he  took  the 
offer  of  the  Gortynians,  because  the  Achaeans  chose  other 
generals,  and  left  him  but  a private  man.  For  he  could  not 
endure  to  sit  still,  but  looking  upon  war  and  command  in  it 
as  his  great  business,  always  coveted  to  be  employed.  And 
this  agrees  with  what  he  once  aptly  said  of  king  Ptolemy. 
Somebody  was  praising  him  for  keeping  his  army  and  himself 
in  an  admirable  state  of  discipline  and  exercise  : ‘‘  And  what 
praise,”  replied  Philopoemen,  “ for  a king  of  his  years,  to  be 
always  preparing,  and  never  performing?”  However,  the 
Megalopolitans,  thinking  themselves  betrayed,  took  it  so  ill, 
that  they  were  about  to  banish  him.  But  the  Achaeans  put 
an  end  to  that  design,  by  sending  their  General,  Aristaeus,  to 
Megalopolis,  who,  though  he  were  at  difference  with  Philopoe- 
men about  affairs  of  the  commonwealth,  yet  would  not  suffer 
him  to  be  banished.  Philopoemen  finding  himself  upon  this 
account  out  of  favor  with  his  citizens,  induced  divers  of  the 
little  neighboring  places  to  renounce  obedience  to  them,  sug- 
gesting to  them  to  urge  that  from  the  beginning  they  were 
not  subject  to  their  taxes,  or  laws,  or  any  way  under  theii 


PHILOPCEMEN 


567 


command.  In  these  pretences  he  openly  took  their  part, 
and  fomented  seditious  movements  amongst  the  Achaeans  in 
general  against  Megalopolis.  But  these  things  happened  a 
while  after. 

While  he  stayed  in  Crete,  in  the  service  of  the  Gortynians, 
he  made  war  not  like  a Peloponnesian  and  Arcanian,  fairly 
in  the  open  field,  but  fought  with  them  at  their  own  weapon,, 
and  turning  their  stratagems  and  tricks  against  themselves, 
showed  them  they  played  craft  against  skill,  and  were  but 
children  to  an  experienced  soldier.  Having  acted  here  with 
great  braveiy,  and  great  reputation  to  himself,  he  returned 
into  Peloponnesus,  where  he  found  Philip  beaten  by  Titus 
Quintius,  and  Nabis  at  war  both  with  the  Romans  and  Achae- 
ans. He  was  at  once  chosen  general  against  Nabis,  but  ven- 
turing to  fight  by  sea,  met,  like  Epaminondas,  with  a result 
very  contrary  to  the  general  expectation,  and  his  own  former 
reputation.  Epaminondas,  however,  according  to  some  state- 
ments, was  backward  by  design,  unwilling  to  give  his  coun- 
trymen an  appetite  for  the  advantages  of  the  sea,  lest  from 
good  soldiers,  they  should  by  little  and  little  turn,  as  Plato 
says,  to  ill  mariners.  And  therefore  he  returned  from  Asia 
and  the  Islands  without  doing  any  thing,  on  purpose. 
Whereas  Philopoemen,  thinking  his  skill  in  land-service  would 
equally  avail  at  sea,  learned  how  great  a part  of  valor  expe- 
rience is,  and  how  much  it  imports  in  the  management  of 
things  to  be  accustomed  to  them.  For  he  was  not  only 
put  to  the  worst  in  the  fight  for  want  of  skill,  but  having 
rigged  up  an  old  ship,  which  had  been  a famous  vessel  forty 
years  before,  and  shipped  his  citizens  in  her,  she  foundering, 
he  was  in  danger  of  losing  them  all.  But  finding  the  enemy, 
as  if  he  had  been  driven  out  of  the  sea,  had,  in  contempt  of 
him,  besieged  Gythium,  he  presently  set  sail  again,  and  taking 
them  unexpectedly,  dispersed  and  careless  after  their  victory, 
landed  in  the  night,  burnt  their  camp,  and  killed  a great 
number. 

A few  days  after,  as  he  was  marching  through  a rougn 
country,  Nabis  came  suddenly  upon  him.  The  Achaeans  were 
dismayed,  and  in  such  difficult  ground  where  the  enemy  had 
secured  the  advantage,  despaired  to  get  off  with  safety. 
Philopoemen  made  a little  halt,  and,  viewing  the  ground,  soon 
made  it  appear,  that  the  one  important  thing  in  war  is  skill  in 
drawing  up  an  army.  For  by  advancing  only  a few  paces,  and, 
without  any  confusion  or  trouble,  altering  his  order  according 
to  the  natuie  of  the  place,  he  immediately  relieved  himscl/ 


568 


PHILOPtEMEN.  • 


from  every  difficulty,  and  then  charging,  put  tl  e enemy  to 
flight.  But  when  he  saw  they  fled,  not  towards  the  city,  but 
dispersed  every  man  a different  way  all  over  the  field,  which 
for  wood  and  hills,  brooks  and  hollows  was  not  passable  by 
horse,  he  sounded  a retreat,  and  encamped  by  broad  daylight. 
Then  foreseeing  the  enemy  would  endeavor  to  steal  scatter* 
ingly  into  the  city  in  the  dark,  he  posted  strong  parties  of  the 
Achaeans  all  along  the  watercourses  and  sloping  ground  near 
the  walls.  Many  of  Nabis^s  men  fell  into  their  hands.  For 
returning  not  in  a body,  but  as  the  chance  of  flight  had  dis- 
posed of  every  one,  they  were  caught  like  birds  ere  they  could 
enter  into  the  town. 

These  actions  obtained  him  distinguished  marks  of  affec- 
tion and  honor  in  all  the  theatres  of  Greece,  but  not  without 
the  secret  ill-will  of  Titus  Flamininus,  who  was  naturally 
eager  for  glory,  and  thought  it  but  reasonable  a consul  of 
Rome  should  be  otherwise  esteemed  by  the  Achaeans,  than  a 
common  Arcadian  ; especially  as  there  was  no  comparison 
between  what  he,  and  what  Philopoemen  had  done  for  them, 
he  having  by  one  proclamation  restored  all  Greece,  as  much 
as  had  been  subject  to  Philip  and  the  Macedonians,  to  liberty. 
After  this,  Titus  made  peace  with  Nabis,  and  Nabis  was  cir- 
cumvented and  slain  by  the  ^tolians.  Things  being  then  in 
confusion  at  Sparta,  Philopoemen  laid  hold  of  the  occasion, 
and  coming  upon  them  with  an  army,  prevailed  with  some  by 
persuasion,  with  others  by  fear,  till  he  brought  the  whole  city 
over  to  the  Achaeans.  As  it  was  no  small  matter  for  Sparta 
to  become  a member  of  Achaea,  this  action  gained  him  infinite 
praise  from  the  Achaeans,  for  having  strengthened  their  con- 
federacy by  the  addition  of  so  great  and  powerful  a city,  and 
not  a little  good-will  from  the  nobility  of  Sparta  itself,  who 
hoped  they  had  now  procured  an  ally,  who  would  defend 
their  freedom.  Accordingly,  having  raised  a sum  of  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  silver  talents  by  the  sale  of  the  house  and 
goods  of  Nabis,  they  decreed  him  the  money,  and  sent  a dep- 
utation in  the  name  of  the  city  to  present  it.  But  here  the 
honesty  of  Philopoemen  showed  itself  clearly  to  be  a real,  un 
counterfeited  virtue.  For  first  of  all,  there  was  not  a man 
among  them  who  would  undertake  to  make  him  this  offer  of 
a present,  but  every  one  excusing  himself,  and  shifting  xt  off 
upon  his  fellow,  they  laid  the  office  at  last  on  Timolaus,  with 
whom  he  had  lodged  at  Sparta.  Then  Timolaus  came  to 
Megalopolis,  and  was  entertained  by  Philopoemen ; but  struck 
into  admiration  with  the  dignity  of  his  life  and  manners,  anJ 


PHILOPCEMEN. 


569 


the  simplicity  of  his  habits,  judging  him  to  be  utterly  inacces- 
sible to  any  such  considerations,  he  said  nothing,  but  pretend- 
ing other  business,  returned  without  a word  mentioned  of  the 
present.  He  was  sent  again,  and  did  just  as  formerly.  But 
the  third  time  with  much  ado,  and  faltering  in  his  words,  he 
acquainted  Philopoemen  with  the  good-will  of  the  city  of 
Sparta  to  him.  Philopoemen  listened  obligingly  and  gladly  ; 
and  then  went  himself  to  Sparta,  where  he  advised  them,  not 
to  bribe  good  men  and  their  friends,  of  whose  virtue  they 
might  be  sure  without  charge  to  themselves  ; but  to  buy  off 
and  silence  ill  citizens,  who  disquieted  the  city  with  their  se- 
ditious speeches  in  the  public  assemblies  ; for  it  was  better 
to  bar  liberty  of  speech  in  enemies,  than  friends.  Thus  it 
appeared  how  much  Philopoemen  was  above  bribery. 

Diophanes  being  afterwards  General  of  the  Achaeans,  and 
hearing  the  Lacedaemonians  were  bent  on  new  commotions, 
resolved  to  chastise  them  ; they,  on  the  other  side,  being  set 
upon  war,  were  embroiling  all  ‘Peloponnesus.  Philopoemen 
on  this  occasion  did  all  he  could  to  keep  Diophanes  quiet 
and  to  make  him  sensible  that  as  the  times  went,  while  Anti- 
ochus  and  the  Romans  were  disputing  their  pretensions  with 
vast  armies  in  the  heart  of  Greece,  it  concerned  a man  in  his 
position  to  keep  a watchful  eye  over  them,  and  dissembling, 
and  putting  up  with  any  less  important  grievances,  to  preserve 
all  quiet  at  home.  Diophanes  would  not  be  ruled,  but  joined 
with  Titus,  and  both  together  falling  into  Daconia,  marched 
directly  to  Sparta.  Philopoemen,  upon  this,  took,  in  his  in- 
dignation, a step  which  certainly  was  not  lawful,  nor  in  the 
strictest  sense  just,  but  boldly  and  loftily  conceived.  Entering 
into  the  town  himself,  he,  a private  man  as  he  was,  refused 
admission  to  both  the  consul  of  Rome,  and  the  General  of  the 
Achaeans,  quieted  the  disorders  in  the  city,  and  reunited  it  on 
the  same  terms  as  before  to  the  Achaean  confederacy. 

Yet  afterwards,  when  he  was  General  himself,  upon  some 
new  misdemeanor  of  the  Lacedaemonians,  he  brought  back 
those  who  had  been  banished,  put,  as  Polybius  writes,  eighty, 
according  to  Aristocrates  three  hundred  and  fifty  Spartans  to 
death,  razed  the  walls,  took  away  a good  part  of  their  terri- 
tory and  transferred  it  to  the  Megalopolitans,  forced  out  of 
the  country  and  carried  into  Achaea  all  who  had  been  made 
citizens  of  Sparta  by  tyrants,  except  three  thousand  who 
would  not  submit  to  banishment.  These  he  sold  for  slaves, 
and  with  the  money,  as  if  to  exult  over  them,  built  a colon- 
nade at  Megalopolis.  Lastly,  unworthily  trampling  upon  the 


570 


PHILOPCEMEN. 


Lacedaemonians  in  their  calamities,  and  gratifying  his  hostility 
by  a most  oppressive  and  arbitrary  action,  he  abolished  th$ 
laws  of  Lycurgus,  and  forced  them  to  educate  their  children^ 
and  live  after  the  manner  of  the  Achaeans  ; as  though,  while 
they  kept  to  the  discipline  of  Lycurgus,  there  was  no  hum- 
bling their  haughty  spirits.  In  their  present  distress  and  ad- 
versity they  allowed  Philopoemen  thus  to  cut  the  sinews  of 
their  commonwealth  asunder,  and  behaved  themselves  humbly 
and  submissively.  But  afterwards,  in  no  long  time,  obtaining 
the  support  of  the  Romans,  they  abandoned  their  new  Achaean 
citizenship  ; and  as  much  as  in  so  miserable  and  ruined  a 
condition  they  could,  reestablished  their  ancient  discipline. 

When  the  war  betwixt  Antiochus  and  the  Romans  broke 
out  in  Greece,  Philopoemen  was  a private  man.  He  repined 
grievously,  when  he  saw  Antiochus  lay  idle  at  Chalcis,  spend- 
ing his  time  in  unreasonable  courtship  and  weddings,  while 
his  men  lay  dispersed  in  several  towns,  without  order  or  com- 
manders, and  minding  nothing  but  their  pleasures.  He  com- 
plained much  that  he  was  not  himself  in  office,  and  said  he 
envied  the  Romans  their  victory ; and  that  if  he  had  had  the 
fortune  to  be  then  in  command,  he  would  have  surprised  and 
killed  the  whole  army  in  the  taverns. 

When  Antiochus  was  overcome,  the  Romans  pressed  hard- 
er upon  Greece,  and  encompassed  the  Achaeans  with  their 
power  ; the  popular  leaders  in  the  several  cities  yielded  before 
them  ; and  their  power  speedily,  under  the  divine  guidance, 
advanced  to  the  consummation  due  to  it  in  the  revolutions  of 
fortune.  Philopoemen,  in  this  conjuncture,  carried  himself  like 
a good  pilot  in  a high  sea,  sometimes  shifting  sail,  and  s'  me- 
times  yielding,  but  still  steering  steady  ; and  omitting  no  op- 
portunity nor  effort  to  keep  all  who  were  considerable,  whether 
for  eloquence  or  riches,  fast  to  the  defence  of  their  common 
liberty. 

Aristaenus,  a Megalopolitan  of  great  credit  among  the 
Achaeans,  but  always  a favorer  of  the  Romans,  saying  one  day 
in  the  senate,  that  the  Romans  should  not  be  opposed,  or  dis- 
pleased in  any  way,  Philopoemen  heard  him  with  an  impatient 
silence  ; but  at  last,  not  able  to  hold  longer,  said  angrily  to 
him,  “ And  why  be  in  such  haste,  wretched  man,  to  behold  the 
end  of  Greece  ? ” Manius,  the  Roman  consul,  after  the  defeat 
of  Antiochus,  requested  the  Achaeans  to  restore  the  banished 
Lacedaemonians  to  their  country,  which  motion  was  seconded 
and  supported  by  all  the  interest  of  Titus.  But  Philopoemen 
crossed  it,  not  from  ill-will  to  the  men,  but  that  they  might  be 


PHILOPCEMEN. 


571 

beholden  to  him  and  the  Achaeans,  not  to  Titus  and  the 
Romans.  For  when  he  came  to  be  General  himself,  he  re- 
stored them.  So  impatient  was  his  spirit  of  any  subjection  and 
so  prone  his  nature  to  contest  every  thing  with  men  in  power. 
Being  now  threescore  and  ten,  and  the  eighth  time  General, 
he  was  in  hope  to  pass  in  quiet,  not  only  the  year  of  his  mag- 
istracy, but  his  remaining  life.  For  as  our  diseases  decline, 
as  it  is  supposed  with  our  declining  bodily  strength,  so  the 
quarreling  humor  of  the  Greeks  abated  much  with  their  failing 
political  greatness.  But  fortune  or  some  divine  retributive 
power  threw  him  down  in  the  close  of  his  life,  like  a successful 
runner  who  stumbles  at  the  goal.  It  is  reported,  that  being 
in  company  where  one  was  praised  for  a great  commander,  he 
replied,  there  was  no  great  account  to  be  made  of  a man,  who 
had  suffered  himself  to  be  taken  alive  by  his  enemies. 

A few  days  after,  news  came  that  Dinocrates  the  Messenian^ 
a particular  enemy  to  Philopoemen,  and  for  his  wickedness  and 
villanies  generally  hated,  had  induced  Messene  to  revolt  from 
the  Achasans,  and  was  about  to  seize  upon  a little  place  called 
Colonis.  Philopoemen  lay  then  sick  of  a fever  at  Argos. 
Upon  the  news  he  hasted  away,  and  reached  Megalopolis, 
which  was  distant  above  four  hundred  furlongs,  in  a day. 
From  thence  he  immediately  led  out  the  horse,  the  noblest  of 
the  city,  young  men  in  the  vigor  of  their  age,  and  eager  to 
proffer  their  service,  both  from  attachment  to  Philopoemen, 
and  zeal  for  the  cause.  As  they  marched  towards  Messene, 
they  met  with  Dinocrates,  near  the  hill  of  Evander,  charged 
and  routed  him.  But  five  hundred  fresh  men,  who,  being  left 
for  a guard  to  the  country,  came  in  late,  happening  to  appear, 
the  flying  enemy  rallied  again  about  the  hills.  Philopoemen, 
fearing  to  be  enclosed,  and  solicitous  for  his  men,  retreated 
over  ground  extremely  disadvantageous,  bringing  up  the  rear 
himself.  As  he  often  faced,  and  made  charges  upon  the  enemy, 
he  drew  them  upon  himself ; though  they  merely  made  move- 
ments at  a distance,  and  shouted  about  him,  nobody  daring 
to  approach  him.  In  his  care  to  save  every  single  man,  he 
left  his  main  body  so  often,  that  at  last  he  found  himself  alone 
among  the  thickest  of  his  enemies.  Yet  even  then  none  durst 
come  up  to  him,  but  being  pelted  at  a distance,  and  driven  to 
stony  steep  places,  he  had  great  dhficulty,  with  much  spur- 
ring, to  guide  his  horse  aright.  His  age  was  no  hindrance 
to  him,  for  with  perpetual  exercise  it  was  both  strong  and 
active  ; but  being  weakened  with  sickness,  and  tired  with  his 
long  journey,  his  horse  stumbling,  he  fell  encumbered  with  his 


572 


PHILOPCExMEN. 


arm«5,  and  faint,  upon  a hard  and  rugged  piece  of  ground. 
His  nead  received  such  a shock  with  the  fall,  that  he  lay 
awhile  speechless,  so  that  the  enemy,  thinking  him  dead,  began 
to  turn  and  strip  him.  But  when  they  saw  him  lift  up  his 
head  and  open  his  eyes,  they  threw  themselves  all  together 
upon  him,  bound  his  hands  behind  him,  and  carried  him  off, 
every  kind  of  insult  and  contumely  being  lavished  on  him  who 
truly  had  never  so  much  as  dreamed  of  being  led  in  triumph 
by  Dinocrates. 

The  Messenians,  wonderfully  elated  with  the  news,  thronged 
in  swarms  to  the  city  gates.  But  when  they  saw  Philopcemeu 
in  a posture  so  unsuitable  to  the  glory  of  his  great  actions  and 
famous  victories,  most  of  them,  struck  with  grief  and  cursing 
the  deceitful  vanity  of  human  fortune,  even  shed  tears  of 
compassion  at  the  spectacle.  Such  tears  by  little  and  little 
turned  to  kind  words,  and  it  was  almost  in  everybody’s  mouth 
that  they  ought  to  remember  what  he  had  done  for  them,  and 
how  he  had  preserved  the  common  liberty,  by  driving  away 
Nabis.  Some  few,  to  make  their  court  to  Dinocrates,  were 
for  torturing  and  then  putting  him  to  death  as  a dangerous 
and  irreconcilable  enemy ; all  the  more  formidable  to  Dino- 
crates, who  had  taken  him  a prisoner,  should  he  after  this 
misfortune,  regain  his  liberty.  The}^  put  him  at  last  into  a 
dungeon  underground,  which  they  called  the  treasury,  a place 
into  which  there  came  no  air  nor  light  from  abroad  ; and 
which,  having  no  doors,  was  closed  with  a great  stone.  This 
they  rolled  into  the  entrance  and  fixed,  and  placing  a guard 
about  it,  left  him.  .In  the  mean  time  Philopoemen’s  soldiers, 
recovering  themselves  after  their  flight,  and  fearing  he  was  dead 
when  he  appeared  nowhere,  made  a stand,  calling  him  with 
loud  cries,  and  reproaching  one  another  with  their  unworthy 
and  shameful  escape  ; having  betrayed  their  general,  who,  to 
preserve  their  lives,  had  lost  his  own.  Then  returning  after 
much  inquiry  and  search,  hearing  at  last  that  he  was  taken, 
they  sent  away  messengers  round  about  with  the  news.  The 
Achaeans  resented  the  misfortune  deeply,  and  decreed  to  se  .id 
and  demand  him ; and  in  the  mean  time,  drew  their  army 
together  for  his  rescue. 

While  these  things  passed  in  Achasa,  Dinocrates,  feanng 
that  any  delay  would  save  Philopoemen,  and  resolving  to  be 
beforehand  with  the  Achaeans,  as  soon  as  night  had  dispersed 
the  multitude,  sent  in  the  executioner  with  poison,  with  orders 
not  to  stir  from  him  till  he  had  taken  it.  Philopoemen  had  then 
laid  down,  wrapt  up  in  his  cloak,  not  sleeping,  but  oppres.sed 


PHir.OPCEMEN 


573 


with  ^rief  and  trouble  ; but  seeing  light,  and  a man  with  poison 
by  him,  struggled  to  sit  up  ; and,  taking  the  cup,  asked  the 
man  if  lie  heard  any  thing  of  the  horsemen,  particularly  Lycor- 
tas  ? The  fellow  answering,  that  the  most  part  had  got  off 
safe,  he  nodded,  and  looking  cheerfully  upon  him,  It  is 
well,’’  he  said,  ‘‘  that  we  have  not  been  every  way  unfortunate  ; 
and  vithout  a word  more,  drank  it  off,  and  laid  him  down 
again.  His  weakness  offering  but  little  resistance  to  the 
poison,  it  despatched  him  presently. 

The  news  of  his  death  filled  all  Achcea  with  grief  and 
lamentation.  The  youth,  with  some  of  the  chief  of  the  several 
cities,  met  at  Megalopolis  with  a resolution  to  take  revenge 
without  delay.  I'hey  chose  Lycortas  general,  and  falling  upon 
the  Messenians,  put  all  to  fire  and  sword,  till  they  all  with  one 
consent  made  their  submission.  Dinocrates,  with  as  many  as 
had  voted  for  Philopoemen’s  death,  anticipated  their  vengeance 
and  killed  themselves.  Those  who  would  have  had  him  tor- 
tured, Lycortas  put  in  chains  and  reserved  for  severer  punish- 
ment. They  burnt  his  body,  and  put  the  ashes  into  an  urn, 
and  then  marched  homeward,  not  as  in  an  ordinary  march, 
but  with  a kind  of  solemn  pomp,  half  triumph,  half  funeral, 
crowns  of  victory  on  their  heads,  and  tears  in  their  eyes,  and 
their  captive  enemies  in  fetters  by  them.  Polybius,  the  gen- 
eral’s son,  carried  the  urn,  so  covered  with  garlands  and 
ribbons  as  scarcely  to  be  visible  ; and  the  noblest  of  the  Achae- 
ans  accompanied  him.  The  soldiers  followed  fully  armed 
and  mounted,  with  looks  neither  altogether  sad  as  in  mourn- 
ing, nor  lofty  as  in  victory.  The  people  from  all  towns  and 
villages  in  their  way,  flocked  out  to  meet  him,  as  at  his  return 
from  conquest,  and,  saluting  the  urn,  fell  in  with  the  company 
and  followed  on  to  Megalopolis  ; where,  when  the  old  men, 
the  women  and  children  were  mingled  with  the  rest,  the  whole 
city  was  filled  with  sighs,  complaints  and  cries,  the  loss  of 
Philopoemen  seeming  to  them  the  loss  of  their  own  greatness, 
and  of  their  rank  among  the  Achaeans.  Thus  he  was  honora- 
bly buried  according  to  his  worth,  and  the  prisoners  were 
stoned  about  his  tomb. 

Many  statues  were  set  up,  and  many  honors  decreed  to  him 
by  the  several  cities.  One  of  the  Romans  in  the  time  of 
Greece’s  affliction,  after  the  destruction  of  Corinth,  publicly 
accusing  Philopoemen,  as  if  he  had  been  still  alive,  of  having 
been  the  enemy  of  Rome,  proposed  that  these  memorials 
should  all  be  removed.  A discussion  ensued,  speeches  were 
made,  and  Polybius  answered  the  sycophant  at  large.  And 


S74 


FLAMININUS. 


neither  Mummiirs  nor  the  lieutenants  would  suffer  the  honor- 
able monuments  of  so  great  a man  to  be  defaced,  though  he 
had  often  crossed  both  Titus  and  Manius.  They  justly  dis- 
tinguished, and  as  became  honest  men,  betwixt  usefulness  and 
virtue, — what  is  good  in  itself,  and  what  is  profitable  to  partic- 
ular parties, — ^judging  thanks  and  reward  due  to  him  who 
does  a benefit,  from  him  who  receives  it,  and  honor  never  to  be 
denied  by  the  good  to  the  good.  And  so  much  concerning 
Philopoemen. 


FLAMININUS. 

vVhat  Titus  Quintius  Flamininus,  whom  we  select  as  a 
parallel  to  Philopoemen,  was  in  personal  appearance,  those 
who  are  curious  may  see  by  the  brazen  statue  of  him,  which 
stands  in  Rome  near  that  of  the  great  Apollo,  brought  from 
Carthage,  opposite  to  the  Circus  Maximus,  with  a Greek  in- 
scription upon  it.  The  temper  of  his  mind  is  said  to  have  been 
of  the  warmest  both  in  anger  and  in  kindness,  not  indeed  equally 
so  in  both  respects ; as  in  punishing,  he  was  ever  moderate,  never 
inflexible ; but  whatever  courtesy  or  good  turn  he  set  about, 
he  went  through  with  it,  and  was  as  perpetually  kind  and  oblig- 
ing to  those  on  whom  he  had  poured  his  favors,  as  if  they,  not 
he,  had  been  the  benefactors  : exerting  himself  for  the  security 
and  preservation  of  what  he  seemed  to  consider  his  noblest 
possessions,  those  to  whom  he  had  done  good.  But  being 
ever  thirsty  after  honor,  and  passionate  for  glory,  if  any  thing 
of  a greater  and  more  extraordinary  nature  were  to  be  done, 
he  ^vas  eager  to  be  the  doer  of  it  himself  ; and  took  more 
pleasure  in  those  that  needed,  than  in  those  that  were  capa- 
ble of  conferring  favors  ; looking  on  the  former  as  objects  for 
his  virtue,  and  on  the  latter  as  competitors  in  glory. 

Rome  had  then  many  sharp  contests  going  on,  and  her 
youth  betaking  themselves  early  to  the  wars,  learned  betimes 
the  art  of  commanding;  and  Flamininus,  having  passed 
through  the  rudiments  of  soldiery,  received  his  first  charge  in 
the  war  against  Hannibal,  as  tribune  under  Marcellus,  then 
consul.  Marcellus,  indeed,  falling  into  an  ambuscade,  was  cut 
off.  But  Titus,  receiving  the  appointment  of  governor,  as  w^ell 
of  Tarentum,  then  retaken,  as  of  the  country  about  it,  grew  no 
less  famous  for  his  administration  of  justice,  than  for  his  mili- 
tary skill.  This  obtained  him  the  office  of  leader  and  founder 


FLAMININUS. 


S7S 


of  two  colonies  which  were  sent  into  the  cities  of  Narnia  and 
Cossa  ; which  filled  him  with  loftier  hopes,  and  made  him 
aspire  to  step  over  those  previous  honors  which  it  w^as.  usual 
first  to  pass  through,  the  offices  of  tribune  of  the  people,  prae- 
tor and  aedile,  and  to  level  his  aim  iminedia:ely  at  the  consul- 
ship. Having  these  colonies,  and  all  their  interest  ready  at 
his  service,  he  offered  himself  as  candidate  ; but  the  tribunes 
of  the  people,  Fulvius  and  Manius,  and  their  party,  strongly 
opposed  him  ; alleging  how  unbecoming  a thing  it  was,  that  a 
man  of  such  raw  years,  one  who  was  yet,  as  it  were,  untrained, 
uninitiated  in  the  first  sacred  rites  and  mysteries  of  govern- 
ment, should,  in  contempt  of  the  laws,  intrude  and  force  him- 
self into  the  sovereignty. 

However,  the  senate  remitted  it  to  the  people’s  choice 
and  suffrage ; who  elected  him  (though  not  then  arrived  at 
his  thirtieth  year)  consul  with  Sextus  ^lius.  The  war 
against  Philip  and  the  Macedonians  fell  to  Titus  by  lot,  and 
some  kind  fortune,  propitious  at  that  time  to  the  Romans, 
seems  to  have  so  determined  it ; as  neither  the  people  nor 
the  state  of  things  which  were  now  to  be  dealt  with,  were  such 
as  to  require  a general  who  would  always  be  upon  the  point 
of  force  and  mere  blows,  but  rather  were  accessible  to  per- 
suasion and  gentle  usage.  It  is  true  that  the  kingdom  of 
Macedon  furnished  supplies  enough  to  Philip  for  actual  battle 
with  the  Romans  ; but  to  maintain  a long  and  lingering  war, 
he  must  call  in  aid  from  Greece  ; must  thence  procure  his 
supplies ; there  find  his  means  of  retreat ; Greece,  in  a word, 
would  be  his  resource  for  all  the  requisites  of  his  army. 
Unless,  therefore,  the  Greeks  could  be  withdrawn  from  siding 
with  Philip,  this  war  with  him  must  not  expect  its  decision 
from  a single  battle.  Now  Greece  fwhich  had  not  hitherto 
held  much  correspondence  with  the  Romans,  but  first  began 
an  intercourse  on  this  occasion)  would  not  so  soon  have  em- 
braced a foreign  authority,  instead  of  the  commanders  she  had 
been  inured  to,  had  not  the  general  of  these  strangers  been 
of  a kind,  gentle  nature,  one  who  worked  rather  by  fair  means 
.han  force  ; of  a persuasive  address  in  all  applications  to 
others,  and  no  less  courteous  and  open  to  all  addresses  of 
others  to  him  ; and  above  all  bent  and  determined  on  justice. 
But  the  story  of  his  actions  will  best  illustrate  these  particu 
lars. 

Titus  observed  that  both  Sulpicius  and  Publius,  who  had 
been  his  predecessors  in  that  command,  had  not  taken  the 
field  against  the  Macedonians  till  late  in  the  year  j and  then 


576 


FLAMININUS. 


too,  had  not  set  their  hands  properly  to  the  war,  but  had  kepi 
skirmishing  and  scouting  here  and  there  for  passes  and  pro- 
visions, and  never  came  to  close  fighting  with  Philip.  He 
resolved  not  to  trifle  away  a year,  as  they  had  done,  at  home 
in  ostentation  of  the  honor,  and  in  domestic  administration, 
and  only  then  to  join  the  army,  with  the  pitiful  hope  of  pro- 
tracting the  term  of  office  through  a second  year,  acting  as 
consul  in  the  first,  and  as  general  in  the  latter.  He  was, 
moreover,  infinitely  desirous  to  employ  his  authority  with 
effect  upon  the  war,  which  made  him  slight  those  home-honors 
and  prerogatives.  Requesting,  therefore,  of  the  senate,  that 
his  brother  Lucius  might  act  with  him  as  admiral  of  the  navy, 
and  taking  with  him  to  be  the  edge,  as  it  were,  of  the  expe- 
dition three  thousand  still  young  and  vigorous  soldiers,  ot 
those  who,  under  Scipio,  had  defeated  Asdrubal  in  Spain, 
and  Hannibal  in  Africa,  he  got  safe  into  Epirus  ; and  found 
Publius  encamped  with  his  army,  over  against  Philip,  who  had 
long  made  good  the  pass  over  the  river  Apsus,  and  the  straits 
there  ; Publius  not  having  been  able,  for  the  natural  strength 
of  the  place,  to  effect  any  thing  against  him.  Titus  therefore 
took  upon  himself  the  conduct  of  the  army,  and,  having  dis- 
missed Publius,  examined  the  ground.  The  place  is  in 
strength  not  inferior  to  Tempe,  though  it  lacks  the  trees  and 
green  woods,  and  the  pleasant  meadows  and  walks  that  adorn 
Tempe.  The  Apsus,  making  its  way  between  vast  and  lofty 
mountains  which  all  but  meet  above  a single  deep  ravine  in 
the  midst,  is  not  unlike  the  river  Peneus,  in  the  rapidity  of  its 
current,  and  in  its  general  appearance.  It  covers  the  foot  of 
those  hills,  and  leaves  only  a craggy,  narrow  path  cut  out 
beside  the  stream,  not  easily  passable  at  any  time  for  an  army, 
but  not  at  all  when  guarded  by  an  enemy. 

There  were  some,  therefore,  who  would  have  had  Titus 
make  a circuit  through  Dassaretis,  and  take  an  easy  and  safe 
road  by  the  district  of  Lyncus.  But  he,  fearing  that  if  he 
should  engage  himself  too  far  from  the  sea  in  barren  and 
untilled  countries,  and  Philip  should  decline  fighting,  he  might, 
through  want  of  provisions,  be  constrained  to  march  back 
again  to  the  seaside  without  effecting  any  thing,  as  his  pre- 
decessor had  done  before  him,  embraced  the  resolution  of 
forcing  his  way  over  the  mountains.  But  Philip,  having  pos- 
sessed himself  of  them  with  his  army,  showered  down  his 
darts  and  arrows  from  all  parts  upon  the  Romans.  Sharp  en- 
counters took  place,  and  many  fell  wounded  and  slain  on  both 
sides  and  there  seemed  but  little  likelihood  of  thus  ending  the 


FLAMININUS. 


57^ 


war  ; when  some  of  the  men,  who  fed  their  cattle  thereabouts, 
came  to  Titus  with  a discovery,  that  there  was  a roundabout 
wav  which  the  enemy  neglected  to  guard  ; through  which  they 
undertook  to  conduct  his  army,  and  to  bring  it,  within  three 
days  at  furthest,  to  the  top  of  the  h 11s.  To  gain  the  surer 
credit  with  him,  they  said  that  Charops,  son  of  Machatas,  a 
leading  man  in  Epirus,  who  was  friendly  to  the  Romans,  and 
aided  them  (though  for  fear  of  Philip,  secretly),  was  privT”  to 
the  design.  Titus  gave  their  information  belief,  and  sent  a 
captain  with  four  thousand  foot,  and  three  hundred  ,.^yrse  ; 
these  herdsmen  being  their  guides,  but  kept  in  bonds.  In 
the  daytime  they  lay  still  under  the  covert  of  the  hollow  and 
woody  places,  but  in  the  night  they  marched  by  moonlight, 
the  moon  being  then  at  the  full.  Titus,  having  detached  this 
party,  lay  quiet  with  his  main  body,  merely  keeping  up  the 
attention  of  the  enemy  by  some  slight  skirmishing.  But  when 
the  day  arrived,  that  those  who  stole  round,  were  expected 
upon  the  top  of  the  hill,  he  drew  up  his  forces  early  in  the 
morning,  as  well  the  light-armed  as  the  heavy,  and,  dividing 
them  into  three  parts,  himself  led  the  van,  marching  his  men 
up  the  narrow  passage  along  the  bank,  darted  at  by  the 
Macedonians  and  engaging,  in  this  difficult  ground,  hand 
to  hand  with  his  assailants  ; whilst  the  other  two  divisions 
on  either  side  of  him,  threw  themselves  with  great  alacrity 
among  the  rocks.  Whilst  they  were  struggling  forward,  the 
sun  rose,  and  a thin  smoke,  like  a mist,  hanging  on  the  hills, 
w'as  seen  rising  at  a distance,  unperceived  by  the  enemy,  being 
behind  them,  as  they  stood  on  the  heights  ; and  the  Romans, 
also,  as  yet  under  suspense,  in  the  toil  and  difficulty  they  were 
in,  could  only  doubtfully  construe  the  sight  according  to  their 
desires.  But  as  it  grew  thicker  and  thicker,  blackening  the 
air,  and  mounting  to  a greater  height,  they  no  longer  doubted 
but  it  was  the  fire-signal  of  their  companions  ; and,  raising  a 
triumphant  shout,  forcing  their  way  onwards,  they  drove  the 
enemy  back  into  the  roughest  ground  ; while  the  other  party 
echoed  back  their  acclamations  from  the  top  of  the  mountain,  i 
The  Macedonians  fled  with  all  the  speed  they  could  make  ; 
there  fell,  indeed,  not  more  than  two  thousand  of  them  ; for 
the  difficulties  of  the  place  rescued  them  from  pursuit.  But 
the  Romans  pillaged  their  camp,  seized  upon  their  money  and 
slaves,  and,  becoming  absolute  masters  of  the  pass,  traversed 
all  Epirus  ; but  with  such  order  and  discipline,  with  such 
temperance  and  moderation,  that,  though  they  were  far  from 
the  sea,  at  a great  distance  from  their  vessels,  and  stinted  of 

37 


578 


FLAMININUS. 


their  monthly  allowance  of  corn,  and  though  they  had  much 
difficulty  in  buying,  they  nevertheless  abstained  altogether 
from  plundering  the  country,  which  had  provisions  enough  of 
all  sorts  in  it.  For  intelligence  being  received  that  Philip, 
making  a flight,  rather  than  a march,  through  Thessaly,  forced 
the  inhabitants  from  the  towns  to  take  shelter  in  the  moun- 
tains, burnt  down  the  towns  themselves,  and  gave  up  as  spoil 
to  his  soldiers  all  the  property  which  it  had  been  found  impos- 
sible to  remove,  abandoning,  as  it  would  seem,  the  whole 
country  to  the  Romans,  Titus  was,  therefore,  very  desirous, 
and  entreated  his  soldiers  that  they  would  pass  through  it  as 
if  it  were  their  own,  or  as  if  a place  trusted  into  their  hands ; 
and,  indeed,  they  quickly  perceived,  by  the  event,  what  benefit 
they  derived  from  this  moderate  and  orderly  conduct.  For 
they  no  sooner  set  foot  in  Thessaly,  but  the  cities  opened 
their  gates,  and  the  Greeks,  within  Thermopylae,  were  all 
eagerness  and  excitement  to  ally  themselves  with  them.  The 
Achaeans  abandoned  their  alliance  with  Philip,  and  voted  to 
join  with  the  Romans  in  actual  arms  against  him  ; and  the 
Opuntians,  though  the  ^tolians,  who  were  zealous  allies  of 
the  Romans,  were  willing  and  desirous  to  undertake  the 
protection  of  the  city,  would  not  listen  to  proposals  from  them; 
but  sending  for  Titus,  intrusted  and  committed  themselves  to 
his  charge. 

It  is  told  of  Pyrrhus,  that  when  first,  from  an  adjacent 
hill  or  watchtower  which  gave  him  a prospect  of  the  Roman 
army,  he  descried  them  drawn  up  in  order,  he  observed,  that 
he  saw  nothing  barbarian-like  in  this  barbarian  line  of  battle. 
And  all  who  came  near  Titus,  could  not  choose  but  say  as 
much  of  him,  at  their  first  view.  For  they  who  had  been 
told  by  the  Macedonians  of  an  invader,  at  the  head  of  a bar- 
barian army,  carrying  everywhere  slavery  and  destruction  on 
his  sword’s  point ; when,  in  lieu  of  such  an  one,  they  met 
a man,  in  the  flower  of  his  age,  of  a gentle  and  humane 
aspect,  a Greek  in  his  voice  and  language,  and  a lover  of 
honor,  were  wonderfully  pleased  and  attracted  ; and  when  they 
left  him,  they  filled  the  cities,  wherever  they  went,  with  favor- 
able feelings  for  him,  and  with  the  belief  that  in  him  they 
might  find  the  protector  and  asserter  of  their  liberties.  And 
when  afterwards,  on  Philip’s  professing  a desire  for  peace, 
Titus  made  a tender  to  him  of  peace  and  friendship,  upon  the 
condition  that  the  Greeks  be  left  to  their  own  laws,  and  that 
he  should  withdraw  his  garrisons,  which  he  refused  to  com* 
ply  with,  now  after  these  proposals  the  universal  belief  even 


FLAMININUS. 


579 


of  the  favorers  and  partisans  of  Philip,  was,  that  the  Romans 
came  not  to  fight  against  the  Greeks,  but  for  the  Greeks^ 
against  the  Macedonians. 

Accordingly,  all  the  rest  of  Greece  came  to  peaceable 
terms  with  him.  But  as  he  marched  into  Boeotia,  without 
committing  the  least  act  of  hostility,  the  nobility  and  chief 
men  of  Thebes  came  out  of  their  city  to  meet  him,  devoted 
under  the  influence  of  Brachylles  to  the  Macedonian  alliance, 
but  desirous  at  the  same  time  to  show  honor  and  deference 
to  Titus  ; as  they  were,  they  conceived,  in  amity  with  both 
parties.  Titus  received  them  in  the  most  obliging  and  cour- 
teous manner,  but  kept  going  gently  on,  questioning  and  in- 
quiring of  them,  and  sometimes  entertaining  them  with  narra- 
tives of  his  own,  till  his  soldiers  might  a little  recover  from 
the  weariness  of  their  journey.  Thus  passing  on,  he  and  the 
Thebans  came  together  into  their  city  not  much  to  their  satis- 
faction ; but  yet  they  could  not  well  deny  him  entrance,  as  a 
good  number  of  his  men  attended  him  in.  Titus,  however, 
now  he  was  within,  as  if  he  had  not  had  the  city  at  his  mercy 
came  forward  and  addressed  them,  urging  them  to  join  the 
Roman  interest.  King  Attains  followed  to  the  same  effect. 
And  he,  indeed,  trying  to  play  the  advocate,  beyond  what  it 
seems  his  age  could  bear,  was  seized,  in  the  midst  of  his 
speech,  with  a sudden  flux  or  dizziness,  and  swooned  away ; 
and,  not  long  after,  was  conveyed  by  ship  into  Asia,  and  died 
there.  The  Boeotians  joined  the  Roman  alliance. 

But  now,  when  Philip  sent  an  embassy  to  Rome,  Titus 
despatched  away  agents  on  his  part,  too,  to  solicit  the  senate, 
if  they  should  continue  the  war,  to  continue  him  in  his  com- 
mand, or  if  they  determined  an  end  to  that,  that  he  might 
have  the  honor  of  concluding  the  peace.  Having  a great 
passion  for  distinction,  his  fear  was,  that  if  another  general 
were  commissioned  to  carry  on  the  war,  the  honor  even  of 
what  was  passed,  would  be  lost  to  him  ; and  his  friends  trans 
acted  matters  so  well  on  his  behalf,  that  Philip  was  unsuc 
cessful  in  his  proposals,  and  the  management  of  the  war  was 
confirmed  in  his  hands.  He  no  sooner  received  the  senate’s 
determination,  but,  big  with  hopes,  he  marches  directly  into 
Thessaly,  to  engage  Philip ; his  army  consisting  of  twenty-S'x 
thousand  men,  out  of  which  the  -dEtolians  furnished  six  thou- 
sand foot  and  four  hundred  horse.  The  forces  of  Philip  we^e 
much  about  the  same  number.  In  this  eagerness  to  encour\. 
ter,  they  advanced  against  each  other,  till  both  were  ne^  < 
Scotussa,  where  they  resolved  to  hazard  a battle.  Nor 


580 


FLAMININUS. 


the  approach  of  these  two  formidable  armies  the  effect  that 
might  have  been  supposed,  to  strike  into  the  generals  a mu- 
tual  terror  of  each  other ; it  rather  inspired  them  with  ardor 
and  ambition  ; on  the  Romans’  part,  to  be  the  conquerors  of 
Macedon,  a name  which  Alexander  had  made  famous  amongst 
them  for  strength  and  valor ; whilst  the  Macedonians,  on  the 
other  hand,  esteeming  of  the  Romans  as  an  enemy  very  dif- 
ferent from  the  Persians,  hoped,  if  victory  stood  on  their  side, 
to  make  the  name  of  Philip  more  glorious  than  that  of  Alex- 
ander. Titus,  therefore,  called  upon  his  soldiers  to  play  the 
part  of  valiant  men,  because  they  were  now  to  act  their  parts 
upon  the  most  illustrious  theatre  of  the  world,  Greece,  and  to 
contend  with  the  bravest  antagonists.  And  Philip,  on  the 
other  side,  commenced  an  harangue  to  his  men,  as  usual  be- 
fore an  engagement,  and  to  be  the  better  heard  (whether  it 
were  merely  a mischance,  or  the  result  of  unseasonable  haste, 
not  observing  Vv^hat  he  did),  mounted  an  eminence  outside 
their  camp,  which  proved  to  be  a burying-place  ; and  much 
disturbed  by  the  despondency  that  seized  his  army  at  the 
unluckiness  of  the  omen,  all  that  day  kept  in  his  camp,  and 
declined  fighting. 

But  on  the  morrow,  as  day  came  on,  after  a soft  and  rainy 
night,  the  clouds  changing  into  a mist  filled  all  the  plain  with 
thick  darkness  ; and  a dense  foggy  air  descending,  by  the 
time  it  was  full  day,  from  the  adjacent  mountains  into  the 
ground  betwixt  the  two  camps,  concealed  them  from  each 
other’s  view.  The  parties  sent  out  on  either  side,  some  for 
ambuscade,  some  for  discovery,  falling  in  upon  one  another 
quickly  after  they  were  thus  detached,  began  the  fight  at  what 
are  called  the  Cynos  Cephalae,  a number  of  sharp  tops  of 
hills  that  stand  close  to  one  another,  and  have  the  name 
from  some  resemblance  in  their  shape.  Now  many  vicissi- 
tudes and  changes  happening,  as  may  well  be  expected,  in 
such  an  uneven  field  of  battle,  sometimes  hot  pursuit,  and 
sometimes  as  rapid  a flight,  the  generals  on  both  sides 
kept  sending  in  succors  from  the  main  bodies,  as  they 
saw  their  men  pressed  or  giving  ground,  till  at  length  the 
heavens  clearing  up,  let  them  see  what  was  going  on,  upon 
which  the  whole  armies  engaged.  Philip,  who  was  in  the 
right  wing,  from  the  advantage  of  the  higher  ground  which 
he  had,  threw  on  the  Romans  the  whole  weight  of  his  pha- 
lanx, with  a force  which  they  were  unable  to  sustain;  the 
dense  array  of  spears,  and  the  pressure  of  the  compact  mass 
overpowering  them.  But  the  king’s  left  wing  being  broker 


FLAMINfNUS. 


5^^ 

up  by  the  hilliness  of  the  place,  Titus  observing  it,  and  cher- 
ishing  little  or  no  hopes  on  that  side  where  his  own  gave 
ground,  makes  in  all  haste  to  the  other,  and  there  charges  in 
upon  the  Macedonians  ; who,  in  consequence  of  the  inequal 
ity  and  roughness  of  the  ground,  could  not  keep  their  phalanx 
entire,  nor  line  their  ranks  to  any  great  depth  ( which  is  the 
great  point  of  their  strength),  but  were  forced  to  fight  man 
for  man  under  heavy  and  unwieldy  armor.  For  the  Macedo- 
nian phalanx  is  like  some  single  powerful  animal,  irresistible 
so  long  as  it  is  embodied  into  one,  and  keeps  its  order,  shield 
touching  shield,  all  as  in  a piece ; but  if  it  be  once  broken, 
not  only  is  the  joint-force  lost,  but  the  individual  soldiers  also 
who  composed  it,  lose  each  one  his  own  single  strength,  be- 
cause  of  the  nature  of  their  armor  ; and  because  each  of 
them  is  strong,  rather,  as  he  makes  a part  of  the  whole,  than 
in  himself.  When  these  were  routed,  some  gave  chase  to  the 
flyers,  others  charged  the  Hanks  of  those  Macedonians  who 
were  still  fighting,  so  that  the  conquering  wing,  also,  was 
quickly  disordered,  took  to  flight,  and  threw  down  its  arms. 
There  were  then  slain  no  less  than  eight  thousand,  and  about 
five  thousand  were  taken  prisoners  ; and  the  u^tolians  were 
blamed  as  having  been  the  main  occasion  that  Philip  himself 
got  safe  off.  For  whilst  the  Romans  were  in  pursuit,  they 
fell  to  ravaging  and  plundering  the  camp,  and  did  it  so  com- 
pletely, that  when  the  others  returned,  they  found  no  booty 
in  it. 

This  bred  at  first  hard  words,  quarrels,  and  misunder- 
standings betwixt  them.  But,  afterwards,  they  galled  Titus 
more,  by  ascribing  the  victory  to  themselves,  and  prepossess- 
ing the  Greeks  with  reports  to  that  effect  ; insomuch  that 
poets,  and  people  in  general  in  the  songs  that  were  sung  or 
written  in  honor  of  the  action,  still  ranked  the  ^tolians  fore- 
most. One  of  the  pieces  most  current  was  the  following 
epigram  : — 

Naked  and  tombless  see,  O passer-by, 

The  thirty  thousand  men  of  Thessaly, 

Slain  by  the  /Ftolians  and  the  Latin  band, 

That  came  with  d'itus  from  Italia’s  land  ; 

Alas  for  mighty  Macedon  ! that  day, 

Swift  as  a roe,  king  Philip  fled  away. 

This  was  composed  by  Alcaeus  in  mockery  of  Philip,  exagger- 
ating the  number  of  the  slaiiL  However,  being  everywhere 
repeated,  and  by  almost  everybody,  Titus  was  more  nettled 
at  it  than  Philip.  The  latter  merely  retorted  upon  Alcaeus 
with  some  elegiac  verses  of  his  own  : — 


FLAMININUS. 


kS2 


Naked  and  leafless  see,  O passer-by, 

The  cross  that  shall  Alcaeus  crucify. 

But  such  little  matters  extremely  fretted  Titus,  who  was  ambi- 
tious of  a reputation  among  the  Greeks  ; and  he  therefore  acted 
in  all  after-occurrences  by  himself,  paying  but  very  slight  re- 
gard to  the^tolians.  This  offended  them  in  their  turn  ; and’ 
when  Titus  listened  to  terms  of  accommodation,  and  admitted 
an  embassy  upon  the  proffers  of  the  Macedonian  king,  the 
^Tolians  made  it  their  business  to  publish  through  all  the 
cities  of  Greece,  that  this  was  the  conclusion  of  all ; that  he 
was  selling  Philip  a peace,  at  a time  when  it  was  in  his  hand 
to  destroy  the  very  roots  of  the  war,  and  to  overthrow  the 
power  which  had  first  inflicted  servitude  upon  Greece.  But 
whilst  with  these  and  the  like  rumors,  the  -^tolians  labored 
to  shake  the  Roman  confederates,  Philip,  making  overtures 
of  submission  of  himself  and  his  kingdom  to  the  discretion  of 
Titus  and  the  Romans,  puts  an  end  to  those  jealousies,  as 
Titus,  by  accepting  them,  did  to  the  war.  For  he  reinstated 
Philip  in  his  kingdom  of  Macedon,  but  made  it  a condition  that 
he  should  quit  Greece,  and  that  he  should  pay  one  thou- 
sand talents  ; he  took  from  him  also  all  his  shipping,  save 
ten  vessels ; and  sent  away  Demetrius,  one  of  his  sons, 
hostage  to  Rome  ; improving  his  opportunity  to  the  best 
advantage,  and  taking  wise  precautions  for  the  future.  For 
Hannibal  the  African,  a professed  enemy  to  the  Romar 
name,  an  exile  from  his  own  country,  and  not  long  since 
arrived  at  king  Antiochus^s  court,  was  already  stimulating 
that  prince,  not  to  be  wanting  to  the  good  fortune  that 
had  been  hitherto  so  propitious  to  his  affairs  ; the  mag- 
nitude of  his  successes  having  gained  him  the  surname  of  the 
Great.  He  had  begun  to  level  his  aim  at  universal  monarchy, 
but  above  all  he  was  eager  to  measure  himself  with  the 
Romans.  Had  not,  therefore,  Titus  upon  a principle  of  pru- 
dence and  foresight,  lent  an  ear  to  peace,  and  had  Antiochus 
found  the  Romans  still  at  war  in  Greece  with  Philip,  and  had 
these  two,  the  most  powerful  and  w^arlike  princes  of  that  age, 
confederated  for  their  common  interests  against  the  Roman 
state,  Rome  might  once  more  have  run  no  less  a risk,  and 
been  reduced  to  no  less  extremities  than  she  had  experienced 
under  Hannibal.  But  now,  Titus  opportunely  introducing 
this  peace  between  the  wars,  despatching  the  present  danger 
before  the  new  one  had  arrived,  at  once  disappointed  Antio- 
chus of  his  first  hopes,  and  Philip  of  his  last. 

When  the  ten  commissioners,  delegated  to  Titus  from  the 


FLAMININUS. 


583 


senate,  advised  him  to  restore  the  rest  of  Greece  to  their 
liberty,  but  that  Corinth,  Chalcis,  and  Demetrias  should  be 
kept  garrisoned  for  security  against  Antiochus  ; the  ^tolians 
on  this,  breaking  out  into  loud  accusations,  agitated  all  the 
cities,  calling  upon  Titus  to  strike  oif  the  shackles  of  Greece 
(so  Philip  used  to  term  those  three  cities),  and  asking  the 
Greeks,  whether  it  were  not  matter  of  much  consolation  to 
them  that,  though  their  chains  weighed  heavier,  yet  they  were 
now  smoother  and  better  polished  than  formerly,  and  whether 
Titus  were  not  deservedly  admired  by  them  as  their  benefac- 
tor, who  had  unshackled  the  feet  of  Greece,  and  tied  her  up 
by  the  neck ; Titus,  vexed  and  angry  at  this,  made  it  his  re- 
quest to  the  senate,  and  at  last  prevailed  in  it,  that  the  garri- 
sons in  these  cities  should  be  dismissed,  that  so  the  Greeks 
might  be  no  longer  debtors  to  him  for  a partial,  but  for  an 
entire  favor.  It  was  now  the  time  of  the  celebration  of  the 
Isthmian  games  ; and  the  seats  around  the  race-course  were 
crowded  with  an  unusual  multitude  of  spectators ; Greece 
after  long  wars,  having  regained  not  only  peace,  but  hopes  of 
liberty,  and  being  able  once  more  to  keep  holiday  in  safety. 
A trumpet  sounded  to  command  silence ; and  the  crier,  step- 
ping forth  amidst  the  spectators,  made  proclamation,  that  the 
Roman  senate,  and  Titus  Quintius,  the  proconsular  general, 
having  vanquished  king  Philip  and  the  Macedonians,  restored 
the  Corinthians,  Locrians,  Phocians,  Euboeans,  Achseans  of 
Phthiotis,  Magnetians,  Thessalians,  and  Perrhaebians  to  their 
own  lands,  laws,  and  liberties  ; remitting  all  impositions  upon 
them,  and  withdrawing  all  garrisons  from  their  cities.  At 
first,  many  heard  not  at  all,  and  others  not  distinctly,  what 
was  said ; but  there  was  a confused  and  uncertain  stir  among 
the  assembled  people,  some  wondering,  some  asking,  some 
calling  out  to  have  it  proclaimed  again.  When,  therefore, 
fresh  silence  was  made,  the  crier  raising  his  voice,  succeeded 
in  making  himself  generally  heard  ; and  recited  the  decree 
again  A shout  of  joy  followed  it,  so  loud  that  it  was  heard 
as  far  as  the  sea.  The  whole  assembly  rose  and  stood  up  ; 
there  was  no  further  thought  of  the  entertainment ; all  were 
only  eager  to  leap  up  and  salute  and  address  their  thanks  to 
the  deliverer  and  champion  of  Greece.  What  we  often  hear 
alleged,  in  proof  of  the  force  of  human  voices,  was  actually 
verified  upon  this  occasion.  Crows  that  were  accidentally 
flying  over  the  course,  fell  down  dead  into  it.  The  disruption 
of  the  air  must  be  the  cause  of  it ; for  the  voices  being 
numerous,  and  the  acclamation  violent,  the  air  breaks  with  it, 


5^4 


FLAMININUS. 


and  can  no  longer  give  support  to  the  birds ; but  lets  tliena 
tumble,  like  one  that  should  attempt  to  walk  upon  a vaciAim  ; 
unless  we  should  rather  imagine  them  to  fall  and  die,  shot 
with  the  noise  as  a dart.  It  is  possible,  too,  that  there  may 
be  a circular  agitation  of  the  air,  which,  like  marine  whirl- 
pools, may  have  a violent  direction  of  this  sort  given  to  it 
from  the  excess  of  its  fluctuation. 

But  for  Titus  ; the  sports  being  now  quite  at  an  end,  so 
besef  was  he  on  every  side,  and  by  such  multitudes,  that  had 
he  not,  foreseeing  the  probable  throng  and  concourse  of  the 
people,  timely  withdrawn,  he  would  scarce,  it  is  thought,  have 
ever  got  clear  of  them.  When  they  had  tired  themselves 
with  acclamations  all  about  his  pavilion,  and  night  was  now 
come,  wherever  friends  or  fellow-citizens  met,  they  joyfully 
saluted  and  embraced  each  other,  and  went  home  to  feast 
and  carouse  together.  And  there,  no  doubt,  redoubling  their 
joy,  they  began  to  recollect  and  talk  of  the  state  of  Greece, 
what  wars  she  had  incurred  in  defence  of  her  liberty,  and  yet 
was  never  perhaps  mistress  of  a more  settled  or  grateful  one 
than  this  which  other  men’s  labors  had  won  for  her  ; almost 
without  one  drop  of  blood,  or  one  citizen’s  loss  to  be  mourned 
for,  she  had  this  day  had  put  into  her  hands  the  most  glorious 
of  rewards,  and  best  worth  the  contending  for.  Courage  and 
wisdom  are,  indeed,  rarities  amongst  men,  but  of  all  that  is 
good,  a just  man  it  would  seem  is  the  most  scarce.  Such  as 
Agesilaus,  Lysander,  Nicias,  and  Alcibiades,  knew  how  to  play 
the  general’s  part,  how  to  manage  a war,  how  to  bring  off  their 
men  victorious  by  land  and  sea  ; but  how  to  employ  that  suc- 
cess to  generous  and  honest  purposes,  they  had  not  known. 
For  should  a man  except  the  achievement  at  Marathon,  the 
sea-fight  at  Salamis,  the  engagements  at  Plataea  and  Ther- 
mopylae, Cimon’s  exploits  at  Eurymedon,  and  on  the  coasts  of 
Cyprus,  Greece  fought  all  her  battles  against,  and  to  enslave, 
herself ; she  erected  all  her  trophies  to  her  own  shame  and 
misery,  and  was  brought  to  ruin  and  desolation  almost  wholly 
by  the  guilt  and  ambition  of  her  great  men.  A foreign  pea 
pie,  appearing  just  to  retain  some  embers,  as  it  were,  some 
faint  remainders  of  a common  character  derived  to  them  from 
their  ancient  sires,  a nation  from  whom  it  was  a mere  wonder 
that  Greece  should  reap  any  benefit  by  word  or  thought,  these 
are  they  who  have  retrieved  Gieece  from  her  severest  dangers 
and  distresses,  have  rescued  her  out  of  the  hands  of  insulting 
lords  and  tyrants,  and  reinstated  her  in  her  former  liberties. 

Thus  they  entertained  their  tongues  and  thoughts ; whilst 


FLAMININUS. 


585 

Titus  by  his  actions  made  good  what  had  been  proclaimed 
For%e  immediately  despatched  away  Lentulus  to  Asia,  to 
set  the  Bargylians  free,  Titillius  to  Thrace,  to  see  the  garrh 
sons  of  Philip  removed  out  of  the  towns  and  islands  there, 
while  Publius  Villius  set  sail,  in  order  to  treat  with  Antiochus 
^about  the  freedom  of  the  Greeks  under  him.  Titus  himself 
passed  on  to  Chalcis,  and  sailing  thence  to  Magnesia,  dis' 
mantled  the  garrisons  there,  and  surrendered  the  government 
into  the  people’s  hands.  Shortly  after,  he  was  appointed  at 
Argos  to  preside  in  the  Nemean  games,  and  did  his  part  in 
the  management  of  that  solemnity  singularly  well ; and  made 
a second  publication  there  by  the  crier,  of  liberty  to  the 
Greeks  ; and,  visiting  all  the  cities,  he  exhorted  them  to  the 
practice  of  obedience  to  law,  of  constant  justice,  and  unity, 
and  friendship  one  towards  another.  He  suppressed  their 
factions,  brought  home  their  political  exiles  ; and,  in  short, 
his  conquest  ever  the  Macedonians  did  not  seem  to  give  him 
a more  lively  pleasure,  than  to  find  himself  prevalent  in  re- 
conciling  Greeks  with  Greeks  j so  that  their  liberty  seemed 
now  the  least  part  of  the  kindness  he  conferred  upon  them. 

The  story  goes,  that  when  Lycurgus  the  orator  had  res- 
cued  Xenocrates  the  philosopher  from  the  collectors  who 
were  hurrying  him  away  to  prison  for  non-payment  of  the 
alien  tax,  and  had  them  punished  for  the  license  they  had 
been  guilty  of,  Xenocrates  afterwards  meeting  the  children  of 
Lycurgus,  “ My  sons,”  said  he,  “ I am  nobly  repaying  your 
father  for  his  kindness ; he  has  the  praises  of  the  whole  peo- 
ple in  return  for  it.”  But  the  returns  which  attended  Titus 
Quintius  and  the  Romans,  for  their  beneficence  to  the  Greeks, 
terminated  not  in  empty  praises  only ; for  these  proceedings 
gained  them,  deservedly,  credit  and  confidence,  and  thereby 
power,  among  all  nations,  for  many  not  only  admitted  the 
Roman  commanders,  but  even  sent  and  entreated  to  be  under 
their  protection  ; neither  was  this  done  by  popular  govern- 
ments alone,  or  by  single  cities  ; but  kings  oppressed  by 
kings,  cast  themselves  into  these  protecting  hands.  Inso- 
much that  in  a very  short  time  (though  perchance  not  without 
divine  influence  in  it)  all  the  world  did  homage  to  them. 
Titus  himself  thought  more  highly  of  his  liberation  of  Greece 
than  of  any  other  of  his  actions,  as  appears  by  the  inscription 
with  which  he  dedicated  some  silver  targets,  together  with  his 
own  shield,  to  Apollo  at  Delphi : — 

Ye  Spartan  Tyndarids,  twin  sons  of  Jove, 

Who  in  swift  horsemanship  have  placed  your  love, 


S86 


FLAMINIJSUS. 


Titus,  of  great  ^Eneas'  race,  leaves  this 
In  honor  of  the  liberty  of  Greece. 

He  offered  also  to  Apollo  a golden  crown,  with  this  inscrip 
t:on : — 

This  golden  crown  upon  thy  locks  divine, 

O blest  Latona’s  son,  was  set  to  shine 
By  the  great  captain  of  the  ^Enean  name 
O Phcebus,  grant  the  noble  Titus  fame  1 

The  same  event  has  twice  occurred  to  the  Greeks  in  the 
city  of  Corinth.  Titus,  then,  and  Nero  again  in  our  days, 
both  at  Corinth,  and  both  alike  at  the  celebration  of  the  Isth- 
mian games,  permitted  the  Greeks  to  enjoy  their  own  laws 
and  liberty.  The  former  (as  has  been  said)  proclaimed  it  by 
the  crier ; but  Nero  did  it  in  the  public  meeting-place  from 
the  tribunal,  in  a speech  which  he  himself  made  to  the  people. 
This,  however,  was  long  after. 

Titus  now  engaged  in  a most  gallant  and  just  war  upon 
Nabisj  that  most  profligate  and  lawless  tyrant  of  the  Lacedae- 
monians, but  in  the  end  disappointed  the  expectations  of  the 
Greeks.  For  when  he  had  an  opportunity  of  taking  him,  he 
purposely  let  it  slip,  and  struck  up  a peace  with  him,  leaving 
Sparta  to  bewail  an  unworthy  slavery  ; whether  it  were  that 
he  feared,  if  the  war  should  be  protracted,  Rome  would  send 
a new  general  who  might  rob  him  of  the  glory  of  it ; or  that 
emulation  and  envy  of  Philopoemen  (who  had  signalized  him- 
self among  the  Greeks  upon  all  other  occasions,  but  in  that 
war  especially  had  done  wonders  both  for  matter  of  courage 
and  counsel,  and  whom  the  Achaeans  magnified  in  their 
theatres,  and  put  into  the  same  balance  of  glory  with  Titus), 
touched  him  to  the  quick  ; and  that  he  scorned  that  an  ordi- 
nary Arcadian,  who  had  commanded  in  a few  rencounters 
upon  the  confines  of  his  native  district,  should  be  spoken  of 
in  terms  of  equality  with  a Roman  consul,  waging  war  as  the 
protector  of  Greece  in  general.  But,  besides,  Titus  was  not 
without  an  apology  too  for  what  he  did,  namely,  that  he  put 
an  end  to  the  war  only  when  he  foresaw  that  the  tyrant’s 
destruction  must  have  been  attended  with  the  ruin  of  the 
other  Spartans. 

The  Achaeans,  by  various  decrees,  did  much  to  show 
Titus  honor : none  of  these  returns,  however,  seemed  to  come 
up  to  the  height  of  the  actions  that  merited  them,  unless  it 
were  one  present  they  made  him,  which  affected  and  pleased 
him  beyond  all  the  rest ; which  was  this.  The  Romans,  who 
in  the  war  with  Hannibal  had  the  misfortune  to  be  taken 


FLAMININUS. 


587 


captives,  were  sold  about  here  and  there,  and  dispersed  into 
slavery;  twelve  hundred  in  number  were  at  that  time  in 
Greece.  The  reverse  of  their  fortune  always  rendered  them 
objects  of  compassion  ; but  more  particularly,  as  well  might 
be,  when  they  now  met,  some  with  their  sons,  some  with  their 
brothers,  others  with  their  acquaintance ; slaves  with  their 
free,  and-,  captives  with  their  victorious  countrymen.  Titus, 
though  deeply  concerned  on  their  behalf,  yet  took  none  of 
them  from  their  masters  by  constraint.  But  the  Achaeans,  re- 
deeming them  at  five  pounds  a man,  brought  them  altogether 
into  one  place,  and  made  a present  of  them  to  him,  as  he  was 
just  going  on  shipboard,  so  that  he  now  sailed  away  with  the 
fullest  satisfaction ; his  generous  actions  having  procured  him 
as  generous  returns,  worthy  a brave  man  and  a lover  of  his 
country.  This  seemed  the  most  glorious  part  of  all  his  suc- 
ceeding triumph  ; for  these  redeemed  Romans  (as  it  is  the 
custom  for  slaves,  upon  their  manumission,  to  shave  their 
heads  and  wear  felt-hats)  followed  in  that  habit  in  the  pro- 
cession. To  add  to  the  glory  of  this  show,  there  were  the 
Grecian  helmets,  the  Macedonian  targets  and  long  spears, 
borne  with  the  rest  of  the  spoils  in  public  view,  besides  vast 
sums  of  money;  Tuditanus  says,  3,713  pounds  weight  of 
massy  gold,  43,270  of  silver,  14,514  pieces  of  coined  gold, 
called  Philippics,  which  was  all  over  and  above  the  thousand 
talents  which  Philip  owed,  and  which  the  Romans  were  after- 
wards prevailed  upon,  chiefly  by  the  mediation  of  Titus,  to 
remit  to  Philip,  declaring  him  their  ally  and  confederate,  and 
sending  him  home  his  hostage  son. 

Shortly  after,  Antiochus  entered  Greece  with  a numerous 
fleet  and  a powerful  army,  soliciting  the  cities  there  to  sedi- 
tion and  revolt ; abetted  in  all  and  seconded  by  the  ^tolians, 
who  for  this  long  time  had  borne  a grudge  and  secret  enemity 
to  the  Romans,  and  now  suggested  to  him,  by  the  way  of  a 
cause  and  pretext  of  war,  that  he  came  to  bring  the  Greeks 
liberty.  When,  indeed,  they  never  wanted  it  less,  as  they 
were  free  already,  but,  in  lack  of  really  honorable  grounds, 
he  was  instructed  to  employ  these  lofty  professions.  The 
Romans,  in  the  interim,  in  the  great  apprehension  of  revolu- 
tions and  revolt  in  Greece,  and  of  his  great  reputation  for 
military  strengfh,  dispatched  the  consul  Manius  Acilius  to 
take  the  charge  of  the  war,  and  Titus,  as  his  lieutenant,  out  of 
regard  to  the  Greeks  : some  of  whom  he  no  sooner  saw,  but 
he  confirmed  them  in  the  Roman  interests ; others,  who  began 
to  falter,  like  a timely  physician , bv  the  use  of  the  strong  remedy 


588 


FLAMININUS. 


ot  their  own  affection  for  himself,  he  was  able  to  arrest  !n  the 
nrst  stage  of  the  disease,  before  they  had  committed  them' 
selves  to  any  great  error.  Some  few  there  were  whom  the 
.^tolians  were  beforehand  with,  and  had  so  wholly  pervertea 
that  he  could  do  no  good  with  them  ; yet  these,  however  angry 
and  exasperated  before,  he  saved  and  protected  when  the  en- 
gagement was  over.  For  Antiochus,  receiving  a defeat  at 
Thermopylae,  not  only  fled  the  field,  but  hoisted  sail  instantly 
for  Asia.  Manius,  the  consul,  himself  invaded  and  besieged  a 
part  of  the  ^tolians,  while  king  Philip  had  permission  to  re- 
duce the  rest.  Thus  while,  for  instance,  the  Dolopes  and 
Magnetians  on  the  one  hand,  the  Athamanes  and  Aperantians 
on  the  other,  were  ransacked  by  the  Macedonians,  and  while 
Manius  laid  Heraclea  waste,  and  besieged  Naupactus,  then 
in  the  ^tolians’  hands,  Titus,  still  with  a compassionate  care 
for  Greece,  sailed  across  from  Peloponnesus  to  the  consul  : 
and  began  first  of  all  to  chide  him,  that  the  victory  should  be 
owing  alone  to  his  arms,  and  yet  he  should  suffer  Philip  to  bear 
away  the  prize  and  profit  of  the  war,  and  set  wreaking  his 
anger  upon  a single  town,  whilst  the  Macedonians  overran 
several  nations  and  kingdoms.  But  as  he  happened  to  stand 
then  in  view  of  the  besieged,  they  no  sooner  spied  him  out, 
but  they  call  to  him  from  their  wall,  they  stretch  forth  their 
hands,  they  supplicate  and  entreat  him.  At  the  time,  he  said 
not  a word  more,  but  turning  about  with  tears  in  his  eyes, 
went  his  way.  Some  little  while  after,  he  discussed  the  mat- 
ter so  effectually  with  Manius,  that  he  won  him  over  from  his 
passion,  and  prevailed  with  him  to  give  a truce  and  time  to 
the  ^tolians,  to  send  deputies  to  Rome  to  petition  the  senate 
for  terms  of  moderation. 

But  the  hardest  task,  and  that  which  put  Titus  to  the 
greatest  difficulty,  was  to  entreat  with  Manius  for  the  Chalcid- 
ians,  who  had  incensed  him  on  account  of  a marriage  which 
Antiochus  had  made  in  their  city,  even  whilst  the  war  was  on 
foot ; a match  noways  suitable  in  point  of  age,  he  an  elderly 
man  being  enamored  with  a mere  girl ; and  as  little  proper 
for  the  time,  in  the  midst  of  a war.  She  was  the  daughter  ot 
one  Cleoptolemus,  and  is  said  to  have  been  wonderfully  beau- 
tiful. The  Chalcidians,  in  consequence,  embraced  the  king’s 
interests  with  zeal  and  alacrity,  and  let  him  make  their  city 
the  basis  of  his  operations  during  the  war.  Thither,  therefore, 
he  made  with  all  speed,  when  he  was  routed,  and  fled  ; and 
reaching  Chalcis,  without  making  any  stay,  taking  this  young 
lady,  and  his  money  and  friends  with  him,  away  he  sails  to 


FLAMININUS. 


589 


Asia.  And  now  Manius’s  indignation  carrying  him  in  all 
haste  against  the  Chalcidians,  Titus  hurried  after  him,  en- 
deavoring to  pacify  and  to  entreat  him ; and  at  length  suc- 
ceeded both  with  him  and  the  chief  men  among  the  Romans 
The  Chalcidians,  thus  owing  their  lives  to  Titus,  dedica- 
ted to  him  all  the  best  and  most  magnificent  of  their  sacred 
buildings,  inscriptions  upon  which  may  be  seen  to  run  thus  to 
this  day:  the  people  dedicate  this  gymnasium  to  tit  us 
AND  TO  HERCULES  ; SO  again  : the  people  consecrate  the 
DELPHINIUM  TO  TITUS  AND  TO  HERCULES  ; and  what  is  yet 
more,  even  in  our  time,  a priest  of  Titus  was  formerly  elected 
and  declared  ; and  after  sacrifice  and  libation,  they  sing  a set 
song,  much  of  which  for  the  length  of  it  we  omit,  but  shall 
transcribe  the  closing  verses  : 

The  Roman  Faith,  whose  aid  of  yore, 

Our  vows  were  offered  to  implore. 

We  worship  now  and  evermore. 

To  Rome,  to  Titus,  and  to  Jove, 

O maidens,  in  the  dances  move. 

Dances  and  lo-Paeans  too 
Unto  the  Roman  Faith  are  due, 

O Savior  Titus,  and  to  you. 

Other  parts  of  Greece  also  heaped  honors  upon  him  suit- 
able to  his  merits,  and  what  made  all  those  honors  true 
and  real,  was  the  surprising  good-will  and  affection  which 
his  moderation  and  equity  of  character  had  won  for  him. 
For  if  he  were  at  any  time  at  variance  with  anybody  in  mat- 
ters of  business,  or  out  of  emulation  and  rivalry  (as  with 
Philopoemen,  and  again  with  Diophanes,  when  in  office  as 
general  of  the  Achaeans),  his  resentment  never  went  far, 
nor  did  it  ever  break  out  into  acts  ; but  when  it  had  vent- 
ed itself  in  some  citizen -like  freedom  of  speech,  there  was 
an  end  of  it.  In  fine,  nobody  charged  malice  or  bitterness 
upon  his  nature,  though  many  imputed  hastiness  and  levity 
to  it ; in  general,  he  was  the  most  attractive  and  agreeable 
of  companions,  and  could  speak  too,  both  with  grace,  and 
forcibly.  For  instance,  to  divert  the  Achceans  from  the 
conquest  of  the  isle  of  Zacynthus,  “ If,”  said  he,  they 
put  their  head  too  far  out  of  Peloponnesus,  they  may  hazard 
themselves  as  much  as  a tortoise  out  of  its  shell.”  Again, 
when  he  and  Philip  first  met  to  treat  of  a cessation  and 
peace,  the  latter  complaining  that  Titus  came  with  a mighty 
train,  while  he  himself  came  alone  and  unattended,  “Yes,” 
replied  'Fitus,  “you  have  left  yourself  alone  by  killing  youi 


590 


FLAMININUS. 


friends.’^  At  another  time,  Dinocrates,  the  Messenian,  having 
drunk  too  much  at  a merrymeeting  in  Rome,  danced  therein 
woman’s  clothes,  and  the  next  day  addressed  himself  to  Titus 
for  assistance  in  his  design  to  get  Messene  out  of  the  hands 
of  the  Achaeans.  “ This,”  replied  Titus,  “will  be  matter  for 
consideration  ; my  only  surprise  is  that  a man  with  such  pur- 
poses on  his  hands  should  be  able  to  dance  and  sing  at  drink- 
ing parties.”  When,  again,  the  ambassadors  of  Antiochus 
were  recounting  to  those  of  Achaea,  the  various  multitudes  com- 
posing their  royal  master’s  forces,  and  ran  over  a long  cata- 
logue of  hard  names,  “ I supped  once,”  said  Titus,  “ with  a 
friend,  and  could  not  forbear  expostulating  with  him  at  the 
number  of  dishes  he  had  provided,  and  said  I wondered  where 
he  had  furnished  himself  with  such  a variety  ; ^ Sir,’  replied 
he,  ‘to  confess  the  truth,  it  is  all  hog’s  flesh  differently 
cooked.’  And  so  men  of  Achaea,  when  you  are  told  of  Antio- 
chus’s  lancers,  and  pikemen,  and  foot-guards,  I advise  you 
not  to  be  surprised ; since  in  fact  they  are  all  Syrians,  differ- 
ently armed.” 

After  his  achievements  in  Greece,  and  when  the  war  with 
Antiochus  Avas  at  an  end,  Titus  was  created  censor ; the  most 
eminent  office,  and,  in  a manner,  the  highest  preferment,  in 
the  commonwealth.  The  son  of  Marcellus,  who  had  been  five 
times  consul,  was  his  colleague.  These,  by  virtue  of  their 
office,  cashiered  four  senators  of  no  great  distinction,  and 
admitted  to  the  roll  of  citizens  all  freeborn  residents.  But 
this  was  more  by  constraint  than  their  own  choice  ; for  Ter- 
entius  Culeo,  then  tribune  of  the  people,  to  spite  the  nobility, 
spurred  on  the  populace  to  order  it  to  be  done.  At  this  time, 
the  two  greatest  and  most  eminent  persons  in  the  city,  Afri- 
canus  Scipio  and  Marcus  Cato,  were  at  variance.  Titus 
named  Scipio  first  member  of  the  senate  ; and  involved  him- 
self in  a quarrel  with  Cato,  on  the  following  unhappy  occasion. 
Titus  had  a brother,  Lucius  Flamininus,  very  unlike  him  in 
all  points  of  character,  and,  in  particular,  low  and  dissolute 
in  his  pleasures,  and  flagrantly  regardless  of  all  decency.  He 
kept  as  a companion  a boy  whom  he  used  to  carry  about  with 
him,  not  only  when  he  had  troops  under  his  charge,  but  even 
when  the  care  of  a province  was  committed  to  him.  One 
day  at  a drinking-bout,  when  the  youngster  was  wantoning 
with  Lucius,  “ I love  you.  Sir,  so  dearly,”  said  he,  “ that  pre- 
ferring your  satisfaction  to  my  own,  I came  away  without 
seeing  the  gladiators,  though  I have  never  seen  a man  killed 
in  my  life.”  Lucius,  delighted  with  what  the  boy  said,  an- 


FLAMININUS. 


S9' 


swerecl,  “ Let  not  that  trouble  you ; I can  satisfy  that  longing,’^ 
and  with  that,  orders  a condemned  man  to  be  fetched  out  of 
the  prison,  and  the  executioner  to  be  sent  for,  and  commands 
him  to  strike  off  the  man’s  head,  before  they  rose  from  table. 
Valerius  Antias  only  so  far  varies  the  story  as  to  make  it  a 
woman  for  whom  he  did  it.  But  Livy  says  that  in  Cato’s  own 
speech  the  statement  is,  that  a Gaulish  deserter  coming  with 
his  wife  and  children  to  the  door,  Lucius  took  him  into  the 
ban que ting-room,  and  killed  him  with  his  own  hand,  to  gratify 
his  paramour.  Cato,  it  is  probable,  might  say  this  by  v/ay  of 
aggravation  of  the  crime  ; but  that  the  slain  was  no  such 
fugitive,  but  a prisoner,  and  one  condemned  to  die,  not  to 
mention  other  authorities,  Cicero  tells  us  in  his  treatise  On 
Old  Age,  where  he  brings  in  Cato,  himself,  giving  that  ac- 
count of  the  matter. 

However,  this  is  certain  ; Cato,  during  his  censorship,  made 
a severe  scrutiny  into  the  senators’  lives  in  order  to  the  purg- 
ing and  reforming  the  house,  and  expelled  Lucius,  though 
he  Had  been  once  consul  before,  and  though  the  punishment 
seemed  to  reflect  dishonor  on  his  brother  also.  Both  of  them 
presented  themselves  to  the  assembly  of  the  people  in  a sup- 
pliant manner,  not  without  tears  in  their  eyes,  requesting  that 
Cato  might  show  the  reason  and  cause  of  his  fixing  such  a 
stain  upon  so  honorable  a family.  The  citizens  thought  it  a 
modest  and  moderate  request.  Cato,  however,  without  any 
retraction  or  reserve,  at  once  came  forward,  and  standing  up 
with  his  colleague  interrogated  Titus,  as  to  whether  he  knew 
the  story  of  the  supper.  Titus  answered  in  the  negative, 
Cato  related  it,  and  challenged  Lucius  to  a formal  denial  of 
it.  Lucius  made  no  reply,  whereupon  the  people  adjudged 
the  disgrace  just  and  suitable,  and  waited  upon  Cato  home 
from  the  tribunal  in  great  state.  But  Titus  still  so  deeply 
resented  his  brother’s  degradation,  that  he  allied  himself  with 
those  who  had  long  borne  a grudge  against  Cato ; and  win- 
ning over  a major  part  of  the  senate,  he  revoked  and  made 
void  the  all  contracts,  leases,  and  bargains  made  by  Cato,  re- 
lating to -public  revenues,  and  also  got  numerous  actions  and 
accusations  brought  against  him ; carrying  on  against  a law- 
ful magistrate  and  excellent  citizens,  for  the  sake  of  one  who 
was  indeed  his  relation,  but  was  unworthy  to  be  so,  and  had 
but  gotten  his  deserts,  a course  of  bitter  and  violent  attacks, 
which  it  would  be  hard  to  say  were  either  right  or  patriotic. 
Afterwards,  however,  at  a public  spectacle  in  the  theatre,  at 
which  the  senators  appeared  as  usual,  sitting,  as  became  their 


592 


FLAMININUS. 


rank,  in  the  first  seats,  when  Lucius  was  spied  at  the  lower 
end,  seated  in  a mean,  dishonorable  place,  it  made  a g^eat 
impression  upon  the  people,  nor  could  they  endure  the  sight, 
but  kept  calling  out  to  him  to  move,  until  he  did  move,  and 
went  in  among  those  of  consular  dignity,  who  received  him 
into  their  seats. 

This  natural  ambition  of  Titus  was  well  enough  looked 
upon  by  the  world,  whilst  the  wars  we  have  given  a relation 
of  afforded  competent  fuel  to  feed  it ; as,  for  instance,  when 
after  the  expiration  of  his  consulship,  he  had  a command  as 
military  tribune,  which  nobody  pressed  upon  him.  But  being 
now  out  of  all  employ  in  the  government,  and  advanced  in 
years,  he  showed  his  defects  more  plainly  ; allowing  himself, 
in  this  inactive  remainder  of  life,  to  be  carried  away  with  the 
passion  for  reputation,  as  uncontrollably  as  any  youth.  Some 
such  transport,  it  is  thought,  betrayed  him  into  a proceeding 
against  Hannibal,  which  lost  him  the  regard  of  many.  For 
Hannibal,  having  fled  his  country,  first  took  sanctuary  wdth 
Antiochus  ; but  he,  having  been  glad  to  obtain  a peace,  after 
the  battle  in  Phrygia,  Hannibal  was  put  to  shift  for  himself, 
by  a second  flight,  and,  after  wandering  through  many  coun- 
tries, fixed  at  length  in  Bithynia,  proffering  his  service  to  king 
Prusias.  Every  one  at  Rome  knew  where  he  was,  but  looked 
upon  him,  now  in  his  weakness  and  old  age,  with  no  sort  of 
apprehension,  as  one  whom  fortune  had  quite  cast  off.  Titus, 
however,  coming  thither  as  ambassador,  though  he  was  sent 
from  the  senate  to  Prusias  upon  another  errand,  yet  seeing 
Hannibal  resident  there,  it  stirred  up  resentment  in  him  to 
find  that  he  was  yet  alive.  And  though  Prusias  used  much 
intercession  and  entreaties  in  favor  of  him,  as  his  suppliant 
and  familiar  friend,  Titus  was  not  to  be  entreated.  There  was 
an  ancient  oracle,  it  seems,  which  prophesied  thus  of  Hanni- 
baFs  end : — 

Libyssan  earth  shall  Hannibal  inclose. 

He  interpreted  this  to  be  meant  of  the  African  Libya,  and 
that  he  should  be  buried  in  Carthage  ; as  if  he  might  yet  ex- 
pect to  return  and  end  his  life  there.  But  there  is  a sandy 
place  in  Bithynia,  bordering  on  the  sea,  and  near  it  a little 
village  called  Libyssa.  It  was  Hannibal’s  chance  to  be  stay- 
ing here,  and,  haying  ever  from  the  beginning  had  a distrust 
of  the  easiness  and  cowardice  of  Prusias,  and  a fear  of  the 
Romans,  he  had,  long  before,  ordered  seven  underground 
passages  to  be  dug  from  his  house,  leading  from  his  lodging 


FLAMININUS. 


593 


and  running  a considerable  distance  in  various  opposite  direc- 
tions, all  undiscernible  from  without.  As  soon,  therefore,  as 
he  heard  what  Titus  had  ordered,  he  attempted  to  make  his 
escape  through  these  mines  ; but  finding  them  beset  with  the 
king’s  guards,  he  resolved  upon  making  away  with  himself. 
Some  say  that  wrapping  his  upper  garment  about  his  neck, 
he  commanded  his  servant  to  set  his  knee  against  his  back, 
and  not  to  cease  twisting  and  pulling  it,  till  he  had  complete- 
ly strangled  him.  Other’s  say,  he  drank  bull’s  blood,  after 
the  example  of  Themistocles  and  Midas.  Livy  writes  that  he 
had  poison  in  readiness,  which  he  mixed  for  the  purpose,  and 
that  taking  the  cup  in  his  hand,  Let  us  ease,  ” said  he,  the 
Romans  of  their  continual  dread  and  care,  who  think  it  long 
and  tedious  to  await  the  death  of  a hated  old  man.  Yet 
Titus  will  not  bear  away  a glorious  victory,  nor  one  worthy  of 
those  ancestors  who  sent  to  caution  Pyrrhus,  an  enemy,  and 
a conqueror  too,  against  the  poison  prepared  for  him  by 
traitors.” 

Thus  various  are  the  reports  of  Hannibal’s  death  ; but 
when  the  news  of  it  came  to  the  senators’  ears,  some  felt  in- 
dignation against  Titus  for  it,  blaming  as  well  his  officious- 
ness as  his  cruelty ; who  when  there  was  nothing  to  urge  it, 
out  of  mere  appetite  for  distinction  to  have  it  said  that  he 
had  caused  Hannibal’s  death,  sent  him  to  his  grave  when  he 
was  now  like  a bird  that  in  its  old  age  has  lost  its  feathers, 
and  incapable  of  flying  is  let  alone  to  live  tamely  without 
molestation. 

They  began  also  now  to  regard  with  increased  admiration 
the  clemency  and  magnanimity  of  Scipio  Africanus,  and 
called  to  mind  how  he,  when  he  had- vanquished  in  Africa  the 
till  then  invincible  and  terrible  Hannibal,  neither  banished 
him  his  country,  nor  exacted  of  his  countrymen  that  they 
should  give  him  up.  At  a parley  just  before  they  joined  bat- 
tle, Scipio  gave  him  his  hand,  and  in  the  peace  made  after  it, 
he  put  no  hard  article  upon  him,  nor  insulted  over  his  fallen 
fortune.  It  is  told,  too,  that  they  had  another  meeting  after- 
wards, at  Ephesus,  and  that  when  Hannibal,  as  they  were 
walking  together,  took  the  upper  hand,  Africanus  let  it  pass, 
and  walked  on  without  the  least  notice  of  it ; and  that  then, 
they  began  to  talk  of  generals,  and  Hannibal  affirmed  that 
Alexander  was  the  greatest  commander  the  world  had  seen, 
next  to  him  Pyrrhus,  and  the  third  was  himself;  Africanus, 
with  a smile,  asked,  “ What  would  you  have  said,  if  I had  not 
defeated  you?”  ‘‘I  would  not  then,  Scipio,”  he  replied, 

38 


594 


FLAMININUS. 


‘‘have  made  myself  the  third,  but  the  first  commander.’’  Such 
conduct  was  much  admired  in  Scipio,  and  that  of  Titus,  who 
had  as  it  were  insulted  the  dead  whom  another  had  slain,  was 
no  less  generally  found  fault  with.  Not  but  that  there  were 
some  who  applauded  the  action,  looking  upon  a living  Han- 
nibal as  a fire,  which  only  wanted  blowing  to  become  a flame. 
For  when  he  was  in  the  prime  and  flower  of  his  age,  it  was 
not  his  body  nor  his  hand,  that  had  been  so  formidable,  but 
his  consummate  skill  and  experience,  together  with  his  innate 
malice  and  rancor  against  the  Roman  name,  things  which  do 
not  impair  with  age.  For  the  temper  and  bent  of  the  soul  re- 
mains constant,  while  fortune  continually  varies  ; and  some 
new  hope  might  easily  rouse  to  a fresh  attempt  those  whose 
hatred  made  them  enemies  to  the  last.  And  what  really 
happened  afterwards  does  to  a certain  extent  tend  yet  further 
to  the  exculpation  of  Titus.  Aristonicus,  of  the  family  of  a 
common  musician,  upon  the  reputation  of  being  the  son  of 
Eumenes,  filled  all  Asia  with  tumults  and  rebellion.  Then 
again,  Mithridates,  after  his  defeats  by  Sylla  and  Fimbria,  and 
vast  slaughter  as  well  among  his  prime  officers  as  common 
soldiers,  made  head  again,  and  proved  a most  dangerous  ene- 
my, against  Lucullus,  both  by  sea  and  land.  Hannibal  was 
never  reduced  to  so  contemptible  a state  as  Caius  Marius ; 
he  had  the  friendship  of  a king,  and  the  free  exercise  of  his 
faculties,  employment  and  charge  in  the  navy,  and  over  the 
horse  and  foot,  of  Prusias  ; whereas  those  who  but  now  were 
laughing  to  hear  of  Marius  wandering  about  Africa,  destitute 
and  begging,  in  no  long  time  after  were  seen  entreating  his 
mercy  in  Rome,  with  his  rods  at  their  backs,  and  his  axes  at 
their  necks.  So  true  it  is,  that  looking  to  the  possible  future, 
we  can  call  nothing  that  we  see  either  great  or  small ; as 
nothing  puts  an  end  to  the  mutability  and  vicissitude  of  things, 
but  what  puts  an  end  to  their  very  being.  Some  authors  ac- 
cordingly tell  us,  that  Titus  did  not  do  this  of  his  own  head, 
but  that  he  was  joined  in  commission  with  Lucius  Scipio,  and 
that  the  whole  object  of  the  embassy  was  to  effect  Hannibal’s 
death.  And  now,  as  we  find  no  further  mention  in  history  of 
any  thing  done  by  Titus,  either  in  war  or  in  the  administration 
of  the  government,  but  simply  that  he  died  in  peace  ; it  is  time 
to  look  upon  him  as  he  stands  in  comparison  with  Philopoe- 
men. 


PHILOPCEMEN  AND  FLAMININUS. 


595 


COMPARISON  OF  PHILOPCEMEN 
WITH  FLAMININUS. 

First,  then,  as  for  the  greatness  of  the  benefits  which 
Titus  conferred  on  Greece,  neither  Philopoemen,  nor  maay 
braver  men  than  he,  can  make  good  the  parallel.  They  were 
Greeks  fighting  against  Greeks,  but  Titus,  a stranger  to 
Greece,  fought  for  her.  And  at  the  very  time  when  Philopoe- 
men went  over  into  Crete,  destitute  of  means  to  succor  his  be- 
sieged countrymen,  Titus,  by  a defeat  given  to  Philip  in  the 
heart  of  Greece,  set  them,  and  their  cities  free.  Again,  if  we 
examine  the  battles  they  fought,  Philopoemen,  whilstdie  was 
the  Achaeans’  general,  slew  more  Greeks  than  Titus,  in  aiding 
the  Greeks,  slew  Macedonians.  As  to  their  failings,  ambition 
was  Titus’s  weak  side,  and  obstinacy  Philopoemen’s ; in  the 
former  , anger  was  easily  kindled  ; in  the  latter,  it  was  as  hardly 
quenched.  Titus  reserved  to  Philip  the  royal  dignity  ; he 
pardoned  the  ^tolians,  and  stood  their  friend  ; but  Philopoe- 
men, exasperated  against  his  country,  deprived  it  of  its  suprem- 
acy over  the  adjacent  villages.  Titus  was  ever  constant  to 
those  he  had  once  befriended,  the  other,  upon  any  offence,  as 
prone  to  cancel  kindnesses.  He  who  had  once  been  a bene- 
factor to  the  Lacedaemonians,  afterwards  laid  their  walls  level 
with  the  ground,  wasted  their  country,  and  in  the  end  changed 
and  destroyed  the  whole  frame  of  their  government.  He 
seems,  in  truth,  to  have  prodigalled  away  his  own  life,  through 
passion  and  perverseness  ; for  he  fell  upon  the  Messenians, 
not  with  that  conduct  and  caution  that  characterized  the 
movements  of  Titus,  but  with  unnecessary  and  unreasonable 
haste. 

The  many  battles  he  fought,  and  the  many  trophies  he 
won,  may  make  us  ascribe  to  Philopoemen  the  more  thorough 
knowledge  of  war.  Titus  decided  the  matter  betwixt  Philip 
and  himself  in  two  engagements  : but  Philopoemen  came  off 
victorious  in  ten  thousand  encounters,  to  all  which  fortune  had 
scarcely  any  pretence,  so  much  were  they  owing  to  his  skill. 
Besides,  Titus  got  his  renown,  assisted  by  the  power  of  a flour- 
ishing Rome  ; the  other  flourished  under  a declined  Greece, 
so  that  his  successes  may  be  accounted  his  own  ; in  Titus’s 


59® 


PHILOPCEMEN  AND  FLAMININUS. 


glory  Rome  claims  a share.  The  one  had  brave  men  under 
him,  the  other  made  his  brave,  by  being  over  them.  And 
though  Philopoemen  was  unfortunate  certainly,  in  always  be- 
ing  opposed  to  his  countrymen,  yet  this  misfortune  is  at  the 
same  time  a proof  of  his  merit.  Where  the  circumstances  are 
the  same,  superior  success  can  only  be  ascribed  to  superior 
merit.  And  he  had,  indeed,  to  do  with  the  two  most  warlike 
nations  of  all  Greece,  the  Cretans  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
Lacedaemonians  on  the  other,  and  he  'mastered  the  craftiest  of 
t^em  by  art  and  the  bravest  of  them  by  valor.  It  may  also  » 
be  said  that  Titus,  having  his  men  armed  and  disciplined  to 
his  hand,  had  in  a manner  his  victories  made  for  him  ; where- 
as  Philopoemen  was  forced  to  introduce  a discipline  and  tac- 
tics of  his  own,  and  to  new-mould  and  model  his  soldiers  ; so 
that  what  is  of  greatest  import  towards  insuring  a victory  was 
in  his  case  his  own  creation,  while  the  other  had  it  ready  pro- 
vided for  his  benefit.  Philopoemen  effected  many  gallant 
things  with  his  own  hand,  but  Titus  none  ; so  much  so  that 
one  Archedemus,  an  ^tolian,  made  it  a jest  against  him  that 
while  he,  the  ^tolian,  was  running  with  his  drawn  sword, 
where  he  saw  the  Macedonians  drawn  up  closest  and  fighting 
hardest,  Titus  was  standing  still,  and  with  hands  stretched 
out  to  heaven,  praying  to  the  gods  for  aid. 

It  is  true,  Titus  acquitted  himself  admirably,  both  as  ‘a 
gipvernor  and  as  an  ambassador ; but  Philopoemen  was  no 
less  serviceable  and  useful  to  the  Achaeans  in  the  capacity  of 
a private  man,  than  in  ihat  of  a commander.  He  was  a pri- 
vate citizen  when  he  restored  the  Messenians  to  their  liberty, 
and  delivered  their  city  from  Nabis  ; he  was  also  a private 
citizen  when  he  rescued  the  Lacedaemonians,  and  shut  the 
gates  of  Sparta  against  the  General  Diophanes,  and  Titus. 
He  had  a nature  so  truly  formed  for  command  that  he  could 
govern  even  the  laws  themselves  for  the  public  good ; he  did 
not  need  to  wait  for  the  formality  of  being  elected  into  com- 
mand by  the  governed,  but  employed  their  service,  if  occasion 
required,  at  his  own  discretion ; judging  that  he  who  under- 
stood their  real  interests,  was  more  truly  their  supreme  mag- 
istrate, than  he  whom  they  had  elected  to  the  office.  The 
equity,  clemency,  and  humanity  of  Titus  towards  the  Greeks, 
display  a great  and  generous  nature  ; but  the  actions  of  Phil- 
opoemen, full  of  courage,  and  forward  to  assert  his  country’s 
liberty  against  the  Romans,  have  something  yet  greater  and 
nobler  in  them.  For  it  is  not  as  hard  a task  to  gratify  the 
indigent  and  distressed,  as  to  bear  up  against,  and  to  dare  to 


» t ii  r 

PHILOPCEMEN  AND  FLAMININUS.  597 

incur  the  anger  of  the  powerful.  To  conclude,  since  it  does 
not  appear  to  be  easy,  by  any  review  or  discussion,  to  estab- 
lish the  true  difference  of  their  merits,  and  decide  to  which  a 
preference  is  due,  will  it  be  an  unfair  award  in  the  case,  if  we 
let  the  Greek  bear  away  the  crown  for  military  conduct  and 
warlike  skill,  and  the  Roman  for  justice  and  clemency  ?. 


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